For Paul Brookes’ Wildness challenge.

A guided tour

Where would I go to show you what I love?
Which tree to see among these woods?
You’d need shoes to walk, less talk required,
quiet and alert the watch words, listen to the birds,
the singing in the silence, the ringing
of water bells, the smells
of damp earth, all worth lingering by.

We’ll walk the lane in May, stay awhile
where the stream crosses, a mean country bridge,
a simple track, then back
into meadow where orchids blow.

Will we go up the hill
leave the lane? The plain is below
where the river lies, blue-snaking like skies
of spring. I’ll bring you to the path
to the mere. I’ve stood here
so many times, listening to the chimes
of the orioles’ song. They belong,
not we.