A Walk in the Country

Bramley End, a hamlet

nestling in a valley,

is not found on the map –

there is a ‘Brambly End’ –

it must be a misprint.

I tramped the hard last miles

blistered, bleeding, limping.

Bramley End… Journey’s end;

a tree-trunk wayside rest,

church bells treble-bobbing,

a chapel, a village hall,

a ‘Welcome Stranger’ pub,

a hearth, an ingle nook,

a pint of home brewed ale,

“Blow your socks off – this will.”

Strolling a leafy lane;

unchained ‘sit up and begs’

clutter a hump-back bridge –

their owners spinning trout

in the dragonfly stream.

A shire watched from a field

as I broke into sighs

and then awoke grieving.