The Old Dirt Road

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I went out walking down that old, curving dirt road.

A special place where not too many travel & the sun barely peeks through the woods.

The trees are tall & stately, soldiers guarding the way to a treasure.

At the end of the road lies a meadow, but for now I just walk & hum with nature.

The grasses & ferns grow to the roadside, little animals scurry along,

the little birds are chirping & singing so I join in their sunny song.

The air smells so sweet, it must be the flowers that grow

in the patches of sun allowed in by the soldiers.

Flowers of white, yellow & red, over there some are blue!

My voice lifts higher with the birds as I keep walking through.

As I round a familiar bend in the road the soldiers start to part & soon

a meadow emerges. A meadow of wonders & full of delight.

A place I’ve spent many a day, a night & more.

Grasses og green, the shades too numerous to count & flowers

cover the area, their colors seem to shout. But the best things to see,

my favorite above all, are the hundreds of butterflies flitting &

flying, like delicate lace, never seeming to fall.

A small creek comes through, just big enough to matter. Winding its way

over rocks & providing a cool drink, the creek finishes the song, now complete.

I open my bag to take out my throw, then make a little place for me to rest.

I pull out my journals, next my pens & start to write my stories again.

For hours I write, nature my inspiration but soon time is up, I must end my excursion.

I pack it all up & off I go, back up that old dirt road to everyday life,

the one we all know.

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