The Recluse

I am an inland man-

Not for me vast oceans

Or unpredictable seas.

I am content to stay

In my lowly cottage

At the leafy lane’s end

Where no one passes by.

Here I watch the seasons

Content by winter’s fire

With my favourite books

‘Til the first celandine

Heralds approaching spring.

When dappled sunshine lights

The greening tunnelled lane

Soon. white garlic and bluebells

Will deck that same dark lane

Hedged in with ancient trees.

The old horse chestnut tree,

Sentinel at the lane’s end.

In spring’s pink candles decked;

Below, bee- buzzed foxgloves

Bend from the hedgerow bank

I am content to watch

The seasons ebb and flow

Each night I thank my maker

For the joy of simple things.

  © Arthur F Mylam

A Poet's Call

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