Monday, 24 October 2011

The Little Woodland Bridge

Her graceful ivory lines
Set in a crimson bower
Trimmed with green and yellow lace
Putting on her autumn face
Shine in a sunlit hour;

A little woodland bridge,
The finale of a dream
As water rushes past below
And voyeuristic breezes blow
Reflected in a stream

Give me a place to walk
Recalling passing years
And changes that have bridged each one,
The many races lost and won,
A bridge of hopes and fears.

© 2011  Pam H. Murray

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