A grassy footpath leads you where
the river slides beneath the trees
towards the town of Grantchester,
along the meadows and the bees.

There are some cows that eat the greens
and fishers splashing in the ponds
while students punt along the streams
The sun sets orange far beyond.

There is a peace this place conveys
That many tried to put in rhymes
Like Rupert Brooke and the Pink Floyds
And even the young Wittgenstein.

Here is as if Classics never died
It’s like Arcadia in the UK
The youth enjoys the riverside
While birds are singing with the bay.

Some people swim along the Cam
Others indulge in drinking beer
Beneath a tree around Newnham
A rope swings from a willow tree.

The green that melts along the blue
Bridges the water with the land,
where friends on blankets eat and drink
Some deshelled nuts and ice cold pimms

This place is where a go for runs
Or swimming sessions when it’s warm
It makes me feel part of a whole,
as in symbiosis with the world.