When we tramped those sheep trimmed hills
Our glorious band of youth,
I remember hoping that we would never change,
Never marry or grow old and never lose our dreams.
Something though tugged at my common sense.
Defiantly I shook it off.
We climbed down to that secret wood and on its slope
Drank cans of beer and swung from trees
As we'd done so many years past.
Again I sought out that one tree
Craved with intricate letters,
Bodly declaring my past loves
As well as my brother's.
A permanent record of broken dreams
And damaged hearts of the past,
Though by then we could smile about it.
Climbing from that bowl of shade,
We descended from those sweeping blistering hills
Smothered by the late summer sun
And found a pub tucked away where we sat
Having brought our drinks outside.
My brother took a photograph of us and that time.
That time when we talked of hopes and dreams,
Of the amount we could drink and girls we'd never met.
The seat-dappled landlord emerging from the door
Took our empty glasses,the church clock said three.
Reluctantly we climbed back up to those stifling hills
Drowsy with beer and the sun.
Pausing on the escarpment,we sank down in the grass
With the setting sun and surveyed
The haze-crowned landscape below, talking in murmurs.
It was then it returned;
That feeling that our time, like the summer
Was nearing its end.
I was right, for we never walked those hills again.
Time like man moves on
But I still have that photo that captured us forever
I sit smiling at it now with fond remembrance.
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