The Gate That Leads Unto The Field

I walk the lonely way ahead Along the path I often tread, Beyond I know the golden corn Shall wave upon this summer morn, There is no finer place to be As there within the hedge I see, The gate that leads unto the field, And beauty there shall be revealed. I lift the latch then open wide The wooden gate then step inside, And stand in awe as I do gaze Upon the view a whispered haze, Does linger on the distant hills And to my soul such joy instils, A sight that I know all too well And I'm so happy here to dwell. The mighty oak does firmly stand And casts its shadow on the land, I rest within its cooling shade And know that here my fortune's made, The lark does soar into the skies And sings for joy as he does rise, Into the air then disappear Yet still his sweetest song I hear. And there within the sunlight shine The berries ripe upon the vine, Where hawthorn and the holly dense Do line the verge beside the fence, With mayweed and the cowslip too A palette of late summer's hue, An image of the countryside I look upon with greatest pride. A little stream does gently flow And ripples on the stones below, With water's clear I take a sip That's so refreshing to my lip, And there I see a butterfly I watch as it does flutter by, Upon a flower it then does rest As if for me a welcome guest. I cross the stream then climb the stile And then I linger for a while, Beyond the meadow deep and green Afar a woodland can be seen, I venture on until I find A tranquil spot and peace of mind, And lean against my favourite tree Then look upon the scenery. For there I feel I do belong Amongst the trees so tall and strong, With twisted roots that rise and fall A church without a spire or wall, A holy place no bounds or ends And where a reverent peace descends, That fills my hopes my heart and soul, So calming that it makes me whole. Although so much I'd long to stay To live my life and spend each day, I must return as sunlight falls And echoes of the evening calls, Again I cross the gentle stream As if for me a lasting dream, The mighty oak still standing proud Above the lark still sings aloud. And then I reach the wooden gate The skies aglow it's growing late, I lift the latch then pull it to And leave behind that wondrous view, Before I go I take a glance To watch the corn in breezes dance, These memories stay I shan't forget As now the sun does slowly set.