03-14-2014, 09:53 PM
I can’t be sure that this was my first poem, could be the third of the sixth whatever, it is one that the academics would love to get their claws into but Mrs Brown of 34 Arcadia Avenue loves it
Pendle Hill
How cool the woodland carpet feels
Under tender barefoot heels
Days of laughter, childhood rambles
Emerging from the leafy brambles
Over the stile and down the dell
Breathing the dark mushroomy smells
Sandra, Davy, me and Jill
Climb the slope to Pendle Hill
~
Buttercup pollen on calf and shoe
Whisper grass still wet with dew
Up and down we ran and ran
"Catch me; catch me, if you can”
Cross-legged in the birch tree shade
Stolen apples, lemonade
The happy times I remember still
Of summertime on Pendle Hill
~
Tired from racing chasing games
We gather round the campfire flames
Tell the tales of pirates bold
Of sailing ships and Spanish gold
High above this fabled land
You snuggle close and take my hand
Safe and warm from twilight's chill
First love bloomed on Pendle Hill
Pendle Hill
How cool the woodland carpet feels
Under tender barefoot heels
Days of laughter, childhood rambles
Emerging from the leafy brambles
Over the stile and down the dell
Breathing the dark mushroomy smells
Sandra, Davy, me and Jill
Climb the slope to Pendle Hill
~
Buttercup pollen on calf and shoe
Whisper grass still wet with dew
Up and down we ran and ran
"Catch me; catch me, if you can”
Cross-legged in the birch tree shade
Stolen apples, lemonade
The happy times I remember still
Of summertime on Pendle Hill
~
Tired from racing chasing games
We gather round the campfire flames
Tell the tales of pirates bold
Of sailing ships and Spanish gold
High above this fabled land
You snuggle close and take my hand
Safe and warm from twilight's chill
First love bloomed on Pendle Hill

