at the summit

as in sit on this monmument,
a monument of the war dead,
on the brow of this hill,
my friend is by my side,
and as we put the world to rights,
i stare across the fields,
one leading into the other,
shrouded by lush green bush,
its a dull kind of day,
i watch the clouds pass by,
following one another,
like the sheep grazing the fields,
i see for miles around,
green belt land,
unscarreed by urban life,
i yearn for this image,
it will stay in my mind always,
but the day is drawing in,
so we must descend this hill,
and return the smokey haze,
of urban life,
this place holds my heart,
and and always will!