1403

A week away and nothing on the page.

Walking in the Cotswolds has been full

Of images and moments which could be

So easily transformed to simple verse

Yet singularly failed to turn themselves

Into a single idea worth its while

To try to set it down for you to read.

The days were full, the walks not over-long

But even harvest home at the Woolpack

Did not illicit a single brief haiku

Let alone a sonnet or roundel

And, somehow, I am not inclined to try.

            No poem could be so beautiful and true;

            It was enough I spent the time with you.

Brian Hick  autumn 2014

©copyright Sally Hick 27.10.25