Poetry

Thursday, 27 June 2024

Strawberry fields

 Well the time came again

That a train visited the hills

The train of volunteers

Driven by their common wills

Through

Long forgotten glades

Fields of silver

Fields of gold

Fields of bronze

Fields once sold

Now bought back again

All for the train

All for the memory

All for the future

All for the history to be

Tied up like sutures

Never leaving a loose end

Never knowing what's round the bend

Or down the tracks

The strawberry fields forever



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