A pathway of autumnal glow,
When Nature bows her head for rest.
While trees prepare for season’s flow,
Like rust upon what summer blessed.
The morning dew drops hang like gems,
As chill winds cause crisp leaves to fall.
Such a welcome the pathway lends,
To all the people one and all.
Who can resist to kick the piles,
Of golden foliage so deep.
The sound of rustling all the while.
Nature’s stage sets ready for sleep.
Woodland creatures stockpile their hoard.
They watch as walkers tread the path.
In ‘wellies’ people cross the ford.
In mud and leaves the children laugh.
The pathway weaves its way through trees;
A journey through nature’s story.
The whirling wind lifts crimson leaves.
Nature’s bunting in full glory.
We must protect our woodlands now,
For businessmen seek to plunder.
Our Politicians let us down.
They just let bulldozers thunder.
Our natural world holds our lives,
While along life’s gold path we tread.
At Westminster those that decide;
Their profit versus life and death.
© Dean Parsons. February 2018.