1 stycznia 2012
SEVEN FIELDS TO FORTY ACRES
And the farm endured
seven fields to forty acres
the days of my father
saw grass and crops rotate
his toiling obsession now spent
gave way to a bigger scale
the old house storeyed
by one and a half
the bedroom where I slept
in the shadow of an older brother
the roof of grey slate
the peak of my world
reached a childhood sky
the overgrown garden
the consequence of labours elsewhere
the sycamore tree
my view of a world outside
the patch of monkshood remained
where I trapped bees in a jar
the fuchsia bush with flowers to pick
and suck nectar from within
the old dirt track road
the start of a jouney far beyond
the realm of a farm
and the dreams of a boy
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