Lost And Found Poem by Matt Mooney

Alas I've lost my sense of smell
And my hips they hurt as well;
My eyesight may not be so bad
But not as good as what I had;
I look for beauty far and near
To find it's never far from here;
I can forget from time to time
But just remind me and I'm fine.

In the field a pheasant calling,
Rhyming roadside water falling;
That's for me an echo in my mind
Taking me back again in time,
To mornings on a mountain side,
Hearing where red grouse hide
In the heather up above the town,
As a bog brown stream runs down.