The Path Poem by Paul Reed

With glad rags and costumes
And tokens of yesteryear
We set out upon the path
That knew all too well we were there;

With age-worn craft and wizenend guile,
It wound this way and that through our troubles,
Lollipop alliums floating each side,
A sea of purple bubbles;

Although separated along the way
Taking each turn and bend,
We knew that we would be together
When we finally reached the end;

We lingered awhile at sun-warmed bricks
Piled high in a Victorian wall,
The joints that had absorbed such cares
Like eyes that had seen it all;

Seeing us now, standing there
Under the subdued haze,
It soaked up our worried frowns
And turned them to brighter days;

Lending support under it’s lofty coursing
Alongside the weary track
It surged us onward to our destination
And told us not to look back;

The walk finally over
All finery was cast aside
We donned the clothes of life
And climbed back onto the ride