Left behind

I will try not to think of England

On mellow summer afternoons

When it is just all so easy to do

To be called back in time

To the memory of those green fields

Waist high with cow parsley

We cycled through

On summer afternoons fair

With free wind blowing through our hair

As we pedalled on

Towards the meadows of Grantchester

And in my minds eye

I will try not to spy

The distant church tower

With the hands of the clock

Stuck on 10 to 3

Because it will only cause my heart

To start aching

As I call to mind

All the years of sadness

That followed

After we left those green fields

So far behind