He is a country man, a quiet simple man,

And more, he has seen the Red Kites at play,

High in the sky, whirling, diving in aerobatic flight.

And he has seen the Buzzards in courtship,

In mid-air. Almost colliding, they gently touched .

Never impeding their fast flight of joy.

He is a lucky man to have seen such things,

And more- he has stroked his lovers auburn hair.

As he kissed her goodnight in the blackout of war,

As real today as it was that first night.

He is a fortunate man to have wedded her,

And more- he has heard the cry of his first born,

Seen him grow up, and marry his own lovely bride.

The growing up of his grand children brought him great joy,

The prospect of their children greater joy still.

He is an elderly man to have had all this,

and more- he has smelled wars death and destruction,

Lived through it all, and smelled once again,

The heather on the hills, and the gorse by the
river.

Just as he did when he was a child.

He is a thankful man to have lived this life,

and more- he has tasted this life to the full,

Lived it as well as he knew how.

An elderly,simple, fortunate country man.

A happy man – Thats me.