To England

Look for me one day hurrying by train
grown restless for your ways
Will you know this foreign face
or greet me as a guest?

Will you again regale my eyes
with a sound repast of June sun?
Long daisychain days
of powder sky on tousled grass

Will I catch that distant bleating
and bells in misted stone?
Of that same fabric I am hewn
by the workings of your ancient soul

To weigh your worth in lines
to pay the balance on a birth
would I try?
You are your own majesty

Sumangali Morhall
January 2005