I sat beside old Langley Bush
& oer the furze in Hanglands Wood
I listened at the singing thrush
Naught did my idle mind engross
The tiny flixweeds only flower
Was there & little beds of moss
Swelled pleaching to the sunny hour
I passed it in a sicker day
The golden furze-blooms burnt the wind
With sultry sweets—& there I lay
Tormented with the saddest mind
The little hill did naked lie
The old old bush was broke & gone
Daily #JohnClare postings
#poetry #environment
Image by my friend #MarcusThompson
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