A road which begins
At Five Lane Ends
So not really a road at all
But a lane
Yet a lane which goes all the way
As would a road, and maybe even beyond
Half-a-mile or so
Down the road, or lane
Over a wall
Into a big field
Edged by trees
Which we climbed
Whose broad branches
We swung from
And also we jumped from
Our stage post
From self into self
Through social interaction
We usually came at the place
From the opposite direction
Meeting up in the village
Then trekking though
The farm yard
Past the barn
And dam
Up through the silver birch plantation
Over tufted ground
To see the huge Plain trees
In our playing field
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| Christopher's Website for his Collected Works |