I walked that path a thousand times, 
To the mountain top I'd climb, 
Leaving the village beneath me, 
I'd hear those church bells chime.
Looking down the valley, 
The sky a luscious blue, 
Admiring this world around me, 
A grand and special view.
The village I was born in, 
This land I call my own, 
The rows of terraced houses, 
A community proudly grown.
The birds sing from the treetops, 
The sun upon my face, 
This is my favourite moment, 
This is my special place.
Jayne Louise Davies                
                    I share in this nostalgia. The are early years in the village are always wonderful to remember. This reminds me of my poem: A Song To My Childhood Friends. Thanks for sharing and keep writing
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautiful images and emotive poem, where are you now, ? Still writing tired of PH?