FIND ME A MEADOW Can anyone tell me, does anyone know, Where there is a meadow, where I could go? It’s been far too long since my eyes have seen A real country meadow all yellow and green. You know of the type, wild flowers and grass, Parts covered with water that shimmers like glass. It’s soft underfoot, there’s a moss covered gate, Please find me a meadow before it’s too late. There used to be lots when I was a child, Exciting, mysterious, everything wild. Nettles and dock leaves, cowslips and clover, Please find me a meadow before it’s all over. Where meadows were present, now houses reside, The green’s disappearing, wild animals hide. It would be so lovely to leave a small space, For people like me who think meadows are ace. Written by Diane Booth (nee Berry) around 1978