The springtime air beckons
Urging thoughts of a morning stroll
Escape the cheerless confines of indoors
To sense again that world that lives beyond
Time to refresh the mind and fuel new thoughts
That stimulate with clearer head life’s future plans
Pull on walking boots and grab a stick
Pull closed the door that isolates the outer world
Stride forth to freedom and relief
Now passing the gardens and driveways
Of suburban houses
Cars littering the roadside edge
Heading for the laurel-lined pathway
That leads towards that magic woodland
Planted centuries ago
Profuse with ancient oaks and beeches
Still skeletal in March for lack of leaf
Toppled and decomposing trunks
Lie strewn here and there
Victims of that long ago October storm
That ravaged England’s woods
But now a welcome habitat for micro life
That feeds the woodland birds
See multi-coloured Primrose peeping through
Emerging shoots of other springtime flowers
That promise a carpet of more springtime growth
Sadly with all too short a span
An unleashed dog bounds up
Jumping high with trusting gleeful greeting
But soon obeys his master’s scolding call
In lofty oaks the squirrel leaps
From bough to bough with frantic pace
Sure–footed and devoid of fear for height or fall
A watery sun breaks through the sombre clouds
Transforming muted hues to lustre and to hope
And so refreshed now time to homeward trek
And leave the woodland for another day
When the season’s progress will offer more delight
To cleanse the mind and kindle hope