ENGLAND AT ITS BEST

By Paul Hooley

We dreamed ere long of an idyllic spot
A long remembered memory
Of Elysian fields that time forgot –
England as it used to be

Where planners’ dreams of bricks and clay
Are not counted by the mile
And where neighbours have the time of day
To greet you with a smile

Where happiness and peace of mind 
Do not depend on sales
Where sycophants are hard to find
Amongst rolling hills and dales

Where there’s little talk of profit yields
Or a commuter’s daily battle
Where there’s open views of barley fields
And fewer folk than cattle

Where crimson sunsets mark dewy eve
Where air is fresh and clear
Where from our window we perceive
Badger, fox and deer

A year ago this man and wife
Moved from urban sprawl
We made the best move of our life
We harkened nature’s call

To Dorset – treasure of the West
With valleys free to roam
This is England at its best 
And its where we’ve made our home