Poetry

---

Within the shadow of the Tor, my mother gave me birth.
I roamed the fields of Avalon, Saint Joseph's sacred earth.
I felt the shades of bygone days when Arthur's kingdom throve;
'Tis all a piece of Somerset where dwelleth my fair love.

In youth I toiled behind the plough and reaped the golden corn.
My bed, the hay 'neath open sky. I rose to watch the dawn.
The rich brune earth a'neath my feet, and azure heav'ns above.
Naught can compare to Somerset where dwelleth my fair love

I heard her voice within the dell when homeward thence I chanced;
And so I fell beneath her spell. On Cary’s banks we danced.
The blackbird and the nightingale, the skylark and the dove
Sang in the woods of Somerset when first I met my love.

The heather clothèd moorland heights where run the wild red deer;
The lowlands where the heron grey doth wade the glassy mere;
The verdant streams in rocky coombs where once I fane would hove;
But fairest yet, in Somerset, is she, the one I love.

But soon adventure, fame and gold my restless heart beguiled.
I felt the call of foreign shores, a life so free and wild.
With honour, wealth would I return, my fate me onward drove;
So I forsook fair Somerset and grieved the one I love.

So dark my days, so fierce the fight, mine hands much toil have seen.
Thro' village, town and up and down I wander morn to e'en.
Whene'er I pass thro' cornfields gold, green wood or leafy grove,
Mine heart be turned t'ward Somerset, where waiteth my fair love.

My feet are doomed to wandering, my call must lead me forth
O’er highway, hill, thro' vale and wood, be't west, south, east or north.
But when my task be o'er and done I nevermore shall rove.
Then hie me home to Somerset and wed me my fair love.

© 2007

---

PLEASE ENCOURAGE AUTHOR BELOW LEAVE COMMENT ON ARTICLE