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When Green Hill led to Highcliff Nab
Up from Kemplah Fields,
Then when all my world was young
And all was meant to be,
Life was enriched by Nature’s call;
The world was one to me.
Now, when old age has taken youth
And life resolves in retrospection,
Those childhood days become intense,
The fount of my reflection.
I feel, I touch, the close-knit turf
That dressed the hills I trod.
The waves of bracken still haunt my mind
As if bespoke of God,
And heather, clothing moor and dale,
Purpling the timeless scene,
Rekindles every hope I have
Been granted in the life I’ve seen.
Roland's Ragbag 
In my mind, I often roam the hills and valleys where I spent my youth
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,,, and in my mind, such images are often stronger than those of what I did yesterday. Thanks for responding, Jerry.
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I enjoyed this and fully identified with its sentiment. My recent post about identity as I stood amongst the fells of Cumbria and reflected on my own youth resonates with your poem 👍
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Thanks for commenting, Dr.B. Yes, my own memories are based on my upbringing in the area of the North Yorkshire Moors.
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