Retroland (Poetry)

Peering out the soot-grimed carriage window
as the landscape passes by
I see (in my mind’s eye) those bread-and-butter fields
with their squares of golden spread
neatly sandwiched either side
of quaint peaceful model villages
each with cricket pitch and proud church spire
topped by a weather vane that catches sun
and glints with shifting light
a semaphore short blessing from on high

Those comfy long-established country homes
strung along old streets and narrow lanes
clumps of trees stand sentinel — protect
against the random storm’s mad blustering
the scene is how one thinks the land should look

In years to come enshrined — preserved
in poetry and photographs
and glimpsed again through spy-hole glass
the great green heart of England now
compressed into nostalgia’s dusty book