The Pastures Of Yore Poem by Ravi Panamanna

Leaving a trail of lingering memories
A train is scaling distances far and beyond.
As it whistles through the hamlets
The pastures of yore are opening their chest.

These were his playgrounds once,
Taverns and sprightly dales
Life then was a gathering wind
Galloping horses were the days and nights.

Those were like the wandering clouds,
Those were full of musical nights.
With a group of friends and orchestra
It was a feast from town to town.

From inn to inn, like a migrating bird
He went on whistling his ways.
From place to place, like a gypsy
He went on singing his ways.

For decades he was part of these thorps,
For decades he was breathing these winds.
He was to these dales and waters a living song
He was to these lanes a familiar footstep.

And the drift of life carried him afar,
To these winds he became a distant voice.
The singer was gone but the song remained,
The spring was gone yet the fragrance lingered on.