It always seems magic:
That gap in the hedge
Where the bridleway cuts through
To the next field.
The light shimmers as leaves fidget,
Softening the dark borders
To that short tunnel.
But we turn left
And up the stoney lane
Where life is the same
And Betty sicks up the grass
That she just had to eat.
Yet in my minds' eye remains
The loss: a glimpse of paradise.
18 October 2018
That gap in the hedge
Where the bridleway cuts through
To the next field.
The light shimmers as leaves fidget,
Softening the dark borders
To that short tunnel.
But we turn left
And up the stoney lane
Where life is the same
And Betty sicks up the grass
That she just had to eat.
Yet in my minds' eye remains
The loss: a glimpse of paradise.
18 October 2018
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