With a wild burn running by
Tall spruce and larch and soft green ferns
Through which the wind will sigh.
Give me a patch of earth to turn
As the seasons too will turn
And primroses, on a shaded bank
On a breezy April morn.
Give me a fire on an old stone hearth
A dog, with his head on his paws,
A big old comfy sofa
Warm coats on the back of the door.
Walking boots upon the door-mat
Gloves tossed upon a chair
Hands wrapped around a favourite mug
Skin smelling of fresh air.
Give me soft summer evenings
Or rain on a window pane
Some frosted winter mornings
With snow drifts on the lane,
Give me the quiet that only comes
In the dead of a country night
Just the faintest hoot of a barn-owl
As she glides in silent flight.
Give me an old oak table
Neath a window with a view
A vase of country flowers
And places laid for two.
A notebook on a writing desk
And photos in a frame
Loved ones, now gone, who gave me
My looks, my self, my name.
Give me a house on a hillside
And family home for tea
Laughter drifting from the garden
As they make their memories,
And finally when my evening comes
Let it be on a country night
With my lover’s arms around me
Let me glide into silent flight.