The Intruder

 The day had long since gone  
A glow to the west fades fast and sure  
foot falls insecure, twigs snapping,  
moths and money spiders’ silks impede  
a gothic gloom weighs down  
from trees once green and berry laden,  
now in shades of black and grey.  
Honeysuckle at the woodland edge,  
memories of daylight hours recede  
this is a world I do not know  
of badgers, voles; a secret place  
which I intrude and stumble.  
I am unwanted, none light my way.  
Here another side of life  
in which I hold no shares  
do not understand as once I thought.  
Each day I enjoy colours and songs  
to rival Jacob’s coat, and plainsong monk  
but never once before this night  
and never more again, shall I intrude  
this dark, dank, secret place.