Winter’s Walk

The crisp and frosty leaves do lay
like nature’s carpet all the way
they crunch and crunch under the boot
till dense wood joins and churn to mud.

Beech trees shed nuts on the ground
and squirrels leave the shells around
another sound is played by trodden foot
a sharp crisp, crunchy one of empty nut.

We reach the shrubs along the route
A walk on twigs to snap with heavy boot
the hawthorn is unclothed today
its wedding gown will show in May.

The brambles show their withered fruit
another victim for trodden boot
the bracken dead, no shoot in site
the path is clear for easy flight.

© D Marsden 2016

Published by Dave's Poetry & Mystery...

Hi. I am a retired builder. Born in 1954. My interests are: motorcycling, cycling, woodworking, wood carving, visiting countryside, reading, writing poetry, short stories, writing mystery and of course my new interest is blogging.

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