Up the Lickeys

My city rage is calmed by my escape:
The traffic’s groan is fading into larks,
And all the world seems rounder in its shape
As I slow my soul to walk through Cofton Park.
Then fields of sheep, with Jackdaws interspersed,
before the vision rises in the East
Of the Bittell and its boats as, well rehearsed,
the skylark’s loudest hits are re-released.
And finally the Lickeys: Hills and trees
I climbed as boy in training to be man.
One busy road to cross, and then I’m free;
O I will stay forever if I can:
Lost by a forest; willingly mislaid;
Hidden away in balmy, fragrant shades.


2 thoughts on “Up the Lickeys

    1. Thank you. Although I never went myself, Cofton Park was the venue for a huge gathering when Pope Benedict visited Britain a few years ago. Something to do with canonnising Cardinal Newman, I think.

      Liked by 1 person

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