The Road to Nowhere
by cricketjeff on October 2, 2021. © Jeff Green, All rights reserved
At the bottom of the garden, through the rotting wooden gate;
Down the lane, that’s deeply rutted, where the local foxes mate –
There’s a road, that goes to nowhere and it goes the long-way round
Past the stream we fished for tadpoles and the treasures that we found.
On the bridge, so long and narrow, you just hope you’ll never meet
Other cars, or ancient tractors hauling hay or sugar beet.
Then around another corner there’s a hill they’ve tried to hide
And a field of happy ponies that few children ever ride.
Now the road winds ever higher and the scene becomes a view
Across an ancient wooded valley and a town that isn’t new.
At the top there’s room for parking, for a picnic and a tea,
I’ve a kettle, stove and teapot that I always bring with me.
Now the other side is tricky, even steeper than the first,
It is always rather muddy where the ditch’s banks have burst.
In between two towering hedges we approach the final bend
At a road that goes to somewhere, where my favourite road must end.
I turn left and keep on driving, just a quarter mile more
And I’m back where I first started at the cottage’s front door!
I haven’t driven down it for years but we were only a few miles away last week.