A path uneven and well-trod
Winds up Kilvey Hill
Onwards and upwards we plod
We can’t afford to stand still
We started when the sun shone
But half way up it rains
We wondered where the dog had gone
For it never had much brains
Aunty couldn’t keep the pace
We lost her half way up
Dad was all red in the face
Mum gasping held out her cup
We staggered to the summit
And sat and had our lunch
Then started the downward plummet
Feeling pleased as punch
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I like these poems that give a glimpse of somewhere that you might not see. Thankyou