I sat upon a dry stone wall, <br />And looked towards the distant hills, <br />The ferns around my feet grew tall, <br />Convolvulus too, with its long tendrils. <br /> <br />Down in the valley a church I spied, <br />With a weathervane atop its tower, <br />A solitary place, now unoccupied, <br />Whose clock did chime on every hour. <br /> <br />On the horizon sat a misty haze, <br />A softening blue, so cool a look, <br />And down the lane, the sheep did graze, <br />Alongside a rippling, and singing brook. <br /> <br />I stood and stretched my weary form, <br />And started down a rutted track, <br />The air was sultry and so warm, <br />Pleasant too, as I started back. <br /> <br />How fine, the countryside in spring, <br />In summer and in autumn hues, <br />And winter, when we went rambling, <br />Pulling on waterproof walking shoes. <br /> <br />The changing seasons come and go, <br />And all have beauty to be seen, <br />The summer sunshine and winter snow, <br />Through which emerge, trees evergreen. <br /> <br />So stop and dally for a while, <br />And breathe the fresh and balmy breeze, <br />Then thank God for this treasured isle, <br />And marvel at the scenes one sees.<br /><br />Ernestine Northover<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-scenes-one-sees/
