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| © Copyright Andrew Le Couteur Bisson licensed for reuse under Creative Commons Licence. |
Sometimes in my mind, I go back to the village,
through childhood memories I search
bright Devon days, through quaint cobbled ways
little houses, corner shop and the church.
flowering hedges flanked the twisting lanes,
down to the woodland ,by the silvery creek
rabbits hopped,squirrels jumped, grass-snakes slithered
and ducks and waders bobbed their beaks.
On the mud-banks of the creek, glistening grey,
still damp from the tide,now gone
little birds bustled, digging for worms
and filled the air with song.
With bottles and jam-jars, we waded the creek
after tadpoles, minnows and newts,
and daydreaming now, …..I can still smell the mud
..... on my corduroy shorts and boots.
Tony Bradley
