Ladies' Walk
As children, we loved to go to Ladies’ Walk, if the weather was fine.
The Walk, itself, was situated at the top of town, atop a gentle incline.
To us, as children, the Walk seemed to stretch onwards, for many a mile;
It seemed to us, with our little legs, to be as long as the mighty River Nile.
The earthen path was covered by a canopy of tall, towering trees.
Aromas from the world of nature wafted upon the gentle breeze.
On either side, there were large fields, where horses often grazed.
From vantage points, down upon the town, we would stop and gaze.
My brother and I would often play a game of Hide ‘n’ Seek;
From out of behind the tall trees, we took it in turns, to peek.
We loved to collect conkers; I loved their smooth, shiny shells.
I was blown away by the patches of pretty, blossoming bluebells.
Often, I would find sheep’s wool, caught on the fence of barbed wire;
Of collecting nature’s trinkets and treasures, I never ever seemed to tire.
The tall trees had been there for many a year; some sported ivy-clad bark.
Some were etched with initials and hearts, where lovers had left their mark.
The path was said to be haunted by a man, who was headless, of course;
At dusk, he’d be seen riding along, mounted upon his trusty white horse.
At the very end of the pathway, there were remains of an old Roman road;
I could almost imagine the armies marching along, laden with heavy loads.
Upon our return home, we were always exhausted from being out and about;
We would sit on the floor, while mum cooked tea, and sort our treasures out.
Ladies’ Walk still exists, but from what I have heard, it’s changed somewhat;
But the special times that we spent there as a family, I have never ever forgot.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Added by Poetry Lover
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