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The Den of Leggart ©

James Mutch Crockett
Hong Kong, China

I sat alone in the Den of Leggart,
The grass felt cool in my favourite covered lye,
My mind filled with the tunes of childhood memories,
Three score years having grandly rolled bye.

The wind section rustled the leafy branches above,
And below the strings accompanied the rippling of the burn,
My mystical songstress sang to me from the heavens,
Thon beloved skylark whom had beckoned me to return.

This wild place where I had adventured in my teens,
Filled me with its captivating mesmerising melody,
The music that dreams are made of soothed me in my reverie,
And I recalled how I had planned my life when I was young and free.

I breathed with gusto the precious fresh air that blew upon my face,
And like a piper puffed my cheeks out to play the tune of 'Amazing Grace',
Spotted by the ferret... a warning from the blackbird in the tree,
The tiny 'chif chaf' softly signalling that her nest was close to me.

Nine years I lived in the Jungle, was shipwrecked in the China Sea,
Sailed up the Yangtse River, and drank the famous 'Wu-Long' tea
Battled the Northeast Monsoon in the treacherous Formosa Straits
Yielded to the fury of Typhoon Rose and a loss you can never forget.

Now I reclined and rested in the peace and serenity of this place,
And raised my hands in gratitude for His mercy and His grace,
I waved and called my name out loud with a wondrous joy in my heart,
For I was the sailor who'd come back again to see the Den of Leggart

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