The pleasant natural aroma of meadows mown for silage or hay <br />Come wafting to my memory from places far away <br />And the sun at intervals shines through the gray clouds of the sky <br />And cattle in lush fields chew their cuds at ease in the warmth of July <br />Young birds chirping in the hedgerows near where the stream goes babbling by <br />And dark winged swallows chasing flying insects above the valley fly <br />It does not seem that long ago or a long gone yesterday <br />Since I walked in the old grassy fields in July far away <br />In the knee high rushes hidden from view the male pheasant cuck and crow <br />And dipper the dark brown river bird with breast as white as snow <br />Is singing in the babbling stream that flows down from the lake <br />His scratchy notes familiar once heard one cannot mistake <br />And white butterflies flitting in the breeze make for a pretty sight <br />Above the wildflowers in the fields in the Summer sunlight.<br /><br />Francis Duggan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/in-july-far-away/
