|By Gadding Moor|
Where are the vivid greens of summer
Emeralds and harlequin and mint
And water lilies spreading by the dam
Where lustrous dragonflies darted?
Now the colours are departed.
Under plumbous skies we move like ghosts
No definition or shadows cast
No sense of future or what’s past.
By Gadding Moor, midst ancient beeches
A gurgling beck tumbles ever eastwards.
Under a carpet of autumn leaves
The woodland path is still concealed.
Oh, where are the songs of springtime
Primrose, bluebell and celandine
Drifts of wild garlic milk white by the lane
And when will the swallows be here again?