Here You Pass

Here you pass a handful of people,
Hear no conversations ,
Only saying of a friendly hello.
Some don’t say a word.
In a crowded wood covered by trees and bushes.

The birds don’t stop talking
Telling their every secret,
And they’re invisible to you.
The cows stand proudly
In their luminous viridian field,
With the horses as neighbours,
Looking over their home.

The aroma is next to strike you,
Wild garlic springing from the ground,
Flooding the woodlands floors,
Mixed with a fragrance of fresh morning trees,
Soft and sweet, entrancing you to stay.

This profound priceless place,
Is indefinitely beautiful,
Incredibly charming,
And absolutely mine.

James Burton



My Buddha Statue

His strong granite look,
His subtle preaching pose,
Peacefully watching my every move.

Symbolic to the deep bright exquisite journey,
Across a country so green.
So fertile we were driving through jungles,
Gluing eyes to the windows.

In the midland far from corrupted modern societies,
We rested in a glamorous wooden chalet,
Surrounded by water and paddy fields it lay,
Accompanied by extraordinary birds and a lonely crocodile.

From a temple cave to botanical garden, in astonishment the whole way,
Sticks to the city, we were in a new world surrounded by happiness,
Proudly smiling faces saying a village friendly hello, mesmerized by visitors,
With a temple so extravagant and a garden so majestic, fit for a king.

Mischievous monkeys showed the way through the trees.
Uncovering the fastest rapids, fiercely throwing us overboard,
Then we found the earth made waterslide, along with its diving pools.
Soon we found the Jungle never sleeps.

Catching the train to a sea of tea, a vast plantation covering the land
They courageously pick the leaves for pennies,
We sipped the tea they picked, made and brewed simply astonishing.
Digesting every unique picture through this wonderland.

Upon the horizon a blazing blue awaited us,
So delicious, golden crispy sands laden with palm trees,
Having its heavenly glow, there put on show.
Unbelievable is merely the name of such place.

Soon we may go, not to forget a single thing,
Not even the passing of an inimitable town.
Cherished in mine and my Buddha’s memory.

James Burton