THE LOST PATH
Today I traced a long-forgotten pathway,
Still discernible (but only just)
Between two lines of hedges
Long since grown to trees.
A portion, now, it is, for foxes
(Whose trails I failed to follow
With too-intrusive steps)
And where frightened, flustered pheasants
Find a welcome sanctuary.
Here sharp scimitars of briars and
Rotten toadstool tree-stumps bar my way
As, stumbling forward, I seem to feel
The footsteps of another time,
Of village lads and lasses
Who wandered hand-in-hand on summer evenings
And stole shy, secret kisses
Where even prattling thrushes
Would never tell.