New Forest Poetry – Early
We head out early
To the place
Where we can roam free –
The dogs
And me
They upon legs fleet of foot
Me, on flights of fancy
As I follow at a pace
That suits feeling
Breathing
Thinking
Writing.
And, no sooner are we set upon paths
Tracks
And routes untrammelled
Do I sense the things
That create the words
To write
For to remember the experiences
In future times
When four walls encumber me
And my soul is hampered
By urbane urbanity.
Leaves fall and descend to the hoar-frost land below
Savouring their flight from tree to track
With maybe a regretful look or two back
Amongst friends and new acquaintances
They lay peacefully
And consider the changes to come.
Whilst I consider them.
And so it goes…
Graeme Sandford 