Meandering through villages
In the icy haze
Hedges coated with holly
for a winter maze.
Robins bobbing along
with not a care
Rabbits with furry tails
and the look of a hare.
The silver road
with its bracken and old rope
It is what I would give money for
attached with a bit of hope.
Stones and rocks
glisten like flint
wrapped in years
in moss and mint.
Many pairs of old shoes
have walked this walk
What a tale it would tell
if only it could talk.
Moans and groans
happiness for miles
roaming over hills, dales
lumps, bumps and stiles.
Red post boxes with
telephone boxes to match.
Birds with multicoloured beaks
and wings to watch.
Clouds gather to part
once more for the dark of the day.
And the silver road carries on
guiding the way.