Loxwood

A happy day. Walked over seven miles

In undulating countryside, woods of beach

And oak to shade us from the summer's sun,

Silent paths and not too many stiles.

Why then, in all this pleasure do I find

So little to inspire me, or to stir

Ideas which might just be set down as prompts

For memory to deflect a fretting mind.

Must I feel depressed before a line

Can formulate and constitute

The kernel of a verse that might just mean

Something to us, at some future time?

            I wish I knew, for then we could elope

            With memories that give some glimpse of hope.

Brian Hick

©copyright Sally Hick 22.4.22