A Passing

[billy]

It bore a trace of fern, unfurled a smell
of loose barked silver birch and stretching oaks.
Then dallied by the poplar's narrow strokes
and wooed a hermit thrush that trilled along
a branch; its spotted breast so proud in song.
The parted bluebells blushed within the glade
as chorused foxglove sang inside the shade,
the mottled woodland wrapped me in its spell.

The years, like winds of old are cast away
and with them, gone the softness of the trees.
Now terracotta houses rise like sails
and sewerage pipes are threaded through the brae.
No more the wooded hills, no more the breeze.
No more summer's dell and lost, the vales.

---

thanks for all the feedback this is the 1st edit

original.
A Passing

It carried scent of ferns, unfurled a smell
of loose barked silver birch and stretching oaks.
Then dallied by the poplar's narrow strokes
and wooed a hermit thrush that trilled along
on branch; its spotted breast so proud in song.
The parted bluebells swayed, within the glade
as chorused foxglove sang aloud in shade,
the mottled woodland wrapped me in its spell.

The years, like winds of old have bled away
and with them flew the softness of the trees.
now terracotta houses rise like sails.
and sewerage pipes are threaded through the brae.
No more the wooded hills, no more the breeze.
No more summer's dell, no more the vales.

---

i pronounce sewerage as sew ridge