I had a chance to travel back to Dorset, to the lovely village, Horton, where I grew up. It was strange but nostalgic and brought back many wonderful memories.  The tower in the photo is a folly and is known as Horton Tower where I had a nasty accident, but it was fabulous to go up and see it again.

My visit inspired this poem.

If you have a memory that you would like to have put into a poem, please feel free to message me and I`ll be happy to help.

Growing up in Horton

such an idyllic country childhood

growing up in the middle of nowhere

two farms, one shop and a big churchyard

spending hours playing without a care

racing each other on our Go-Karts

along hedgerows with loads of pickin`s

smells,bells and herds of brown cows

not forgetting all the clucking chickens

playing cricket on the Rectory lawn

trying hard not to break a window

off to the shops with our pocket money

amazing how far six pennies would go!

friends together in the summer sun

playing on the swings or hide and seek

daring each other to pinch some cakes

if you were caught, you`d be in for a week!

with imaginary games and daisy chains

riding on tractor trailers and much more

remembering such a carefree childhood

brings back wondrous memories galore.

(C) Lissie Bull 2022