Memories of home

Speeding along a country lane in a fast sports car -
the sticky smell of melting tar -
the speed and wind of the main highway -
the setting Sun at the close of day -
a good night’s rest and a bright new dawn -
bacon and eggs scenting the morn’ -
these are memories of home to me
not my residence in Coventry.

The cooling smell of fresh salt air -
and dancing waves not seen elsewhere -
the towering cliffs along the coast
to whom all thoughts of time are lost -
their shady walks and winding lanes,
mocking all my worldly pain -
these are memories of home to me,
not my town and family.

A blazing Sun in an azure sky -
and moorland farms that time’s passed by -
grazing sheep upon the hills -
and withered furze clumps, deathly still -
a pint of ale at the village inn -
a game of darts when the locals come in -
these are memories of home to me,
not my friends and their company.