Commentary and Philosophy Poetry posted August 5, 2018


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It is sometimes better to travel cheerfully than to arrive.

The Road

by tfawcus

The way is straight and narrow,
the destination near,
but I prefer a winding road,
an ancient road more dear.

For me, the road's what matters,
the road that hugs the hill.
When I am on the old road,
I have no fear of ill.

The hawthorn bends and beckons,
so, too, the Old Man's Beard.
This road is safe, I reckon,
but the destination's feared.

I must espouse the winding way
beyond the wicket gate,
where every footstep's heaven;
I care not if I'm late.


Rhyming Poetry Contest contest entry

Recognized


Image of an etching by Robin Tanner - The Wicket Gate
Pays one point and 2 member cents.


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