A yearning

Morning mist hovers, silent this morning
Over the meandering course
Of a tributary born of the Adur
Attesting to Nature’s quiet force

Winter’s sad foliage hangs limply
The green a dull grey now it seems
The halcyon days of the summer
Now just a thing of its dreams

And through this picture of quiet abandon
I travel immune to the cold
Cocooned in the warmth of this carriage
I am bound to do as I’m told

Yet a part of me yearns to be out there
Treading the loam of the field
Shoreham’s rural vestiges clinging
To the southern arm of the Weald

There is fortitude there in the making
Something to seize and embrace
A treasure that beckons and calls me
Unique, it would seem, to this place.


2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. JayMish
    Jan 12, 2015 @ 06:35:09


    Liked by 1 person


  2. Jem Croucher
    Jan 12, 2015 @ 06:44:11

    Thank you 🙂 (Now following too)



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