Memories

I’ll walk no more, on golden shore.
Where once my dog’s ran free.
Nor sit on sand, so warm to hand,
Beneath Pohutakawa tree.
For now I am in England,
Where the Bellbird never sings.
But the Barn owl, like the Morpork,
The call of night he brings.

Poppies glow in golden fields,
Like dancing, crimson flames.
Down the English country roads.
Through the winding , cool green lanes,
Majestic trees, aged, old and gnarled,
Reach up into polluted sky.

Yet all this splendor and sad poignancy,
Will not replace my yen to see.
The long white clouds.
The clear blue sea.
Of my New Zealand home.©