Across the hills I swung my feet
and skipped along, tingling with glowing glee,
my trainers treading out a beat;
I made the heat all swirl and surround me.
And at the top of some summit
I saw trees sway in flourishes and frills,
whilst on a statue I did sit
and shiver in a wind that swiftly chills.
Then the descent! - blissfully free
I now bound down through bracken and green grass,
with thorns and nettles stinging me -
until the road, where through a gate I pass.
On the concrete I make progress,
mentally I’m reciting poetry -
so that in verse I can regress;
yes - to youth, to magic I quickly flee.
The clouds now thicken; homeward bound
I listen as I hear the traffic roar,
and children spilling out with frowns;
I know in the country I am no more.
So before I reach home I think
the world so strange, that within just a mile
it might suddenly change! The brink
of nature’s grace; lost without denial.