Friday, 19 August 2016
As soon as I saw this wonderful illustration when browsing online several weeks ago, I knew that one day it would inspire me to write a poem – and today it has done, so here it is.
Verdant but still is the path through the forest,
A study in sadness, in silence, in shade.
Its trail stretching on, its limit unending,
A realm with no gladness, no gleam in its glade.
Dead as a dinosaur, all my dreams done with,
Enveloped in verdigris, mould, and decay.
The past lies behind, its door closed and cloistered,
And as for the future? Who knows - who can say?
And so I plod on, alone and regardless,
'Midst trees, leaves, and bushes, viridian friends.
Their foliage beckons, soon to embrace me,
To take me back home when my journeying ends.