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Bungay, Suffolk
‘England - My - England’
My England has History which other Countries only dream of:-
Oxford Spires, with trees swaying in the breeze, Drake in his hammock silently waits for The Call - once more to go a-sailing in the Great Ships with Giant masts pointing up toward the Great Creator of life.
Their sails unfurled, proudly flapping in the wind, as it whips up the foam atop each wave, as it breaks on a far distant shore.
Time stands still as I allow the past to creep in my mind. As I do so, I sense the pride gained in painstakingly forging hard iron, by hands worn and wrinkled, having been toughened by sun; sea and rain.
Rain, which brings Life into the hills and streams. I stand upon the Tors of old, gazing at the green carpet laid by Nature, she has to be the Greatest Architect of all. Each of Her Creations are unique, and are never repeated.
I see the Sheep and Cattle, as my soul wanders this land once so admired by Landscape Artists - where are they now, these visions which were so lovingly placed onto canvas, for posterity?
Look now, and all is vastly changed; the Sheep and the Cattle are now underground fast asleep, and have joined Drake in his hammock.
The green carpets are all being churned up, and young men with white skin, and colored skin are planting concrete footings, in readiness for the concrete jungles replacing trees and meadows.
The sounds of change jangling in pockets; purses and tills rapidly replace the tinkling streams and trees rustling in the breeze
The cars and lorries trundling past, take up the cry of vixens as they would call to their cubs, out of sight.
The stiff upper lip of men and women have changed into a grimace now, as they watch in despair, the myriad colored ribbons coming from ports around our shores. Sleeping on the Sod of Antiquity, and all eager to reap what others have sewn, with new hope in their hearts as they gaze upon this England.
May the sleeping past speak to them, may those who have so nobly built into the structure of the very essence of every molecule and atom within this fair land speak, and pass on the courage, so continuing to give voice to Justice and Fairness which comes with Truth, and may it all blend in with what they bring with them in their hearts and in their souls.
Let them renew this Great Land and fashion it in their own image of life.
Let that Phoenix rise from the ashes in a new garment.
And most important of all, let the land be free for all those who are able to build once more, the future of life within this orb, as it wends its way among the stars and planets of this wondrous universe.
(©Brenda May Grubb, 2005
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