deepundergroundpoetry.com
Grey Gleams
From farm to farm, the grey gleam of a lane
Can wend its way across the countryside;
He rides; I wend my way; we come again
And he can be attendant here inside;
Or outside if he needs – there are hedgerows,
If concealment is needed and the shame
Of my exposure builds; and, as it grows,
I may blush and I cannot quite explain
Exactly what I'm doing, I can slip
Away to dreams of what might be behind
The net curtains of houses, that we'll skip
Right by, because I am more keen to find
My way back to my master and his charm
Along the lane’s grey gleam from farm to farm
Can wend its way across the countryside;
He rides; I wend my way; we come again
And he can be attendant here inside;
Or outside if he needs – there are hedgerows,
If concealment is needed and the shame
Of my exposure builds; and, as it grows,
I may blush and I cannot quite explain
Exactly what I'm doing, I can slip
Away to dreams of what might be behind
The net curtains of houses, that we'll skip
Right by, because I am more keen to find
My way back to my master and his charm
Along the lane’s grey gleam from farm to farm
Published 21st Mar 2016
| Edited 5th Dec 2018
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