The Lane Where I Live

A country lane,

Where once children could walk,
Free from fear, safe from traffic,
Watching ducks on the river
Lambs in the fields,

Wildflowers in the hedgerows, there for the picking.
Once upon a time.
By the time we came, it had changed
The narrow lane filled with petrol fumes
Cars roared around blind bends
Tractors trundled along, dragging heavy trailers.
Yet we were told it was a safe road
A good accident record – no fatalities.
No-one killed because no-one dared walk there.

With the Millennium, the turn of the century
We overturned all that.
Local people made up our minds to fight
For the right to walk in safety
Come the Millennium, we made the Millennium Way.

To an outsider it’s just a footpath
Along the floodbank, beside the River Wyre.
Nice views, plenty of wildlife,
Ducks, geese, the occasional heron,
Swallows and swifts in season, seagulls too
Hosts of golden daffodils, cowslips, primroses
(Not to mention knotweed and himalayan balsam.)
The bow of Bowland hills in the background
The Wyre, brown and sinuous flowing to the sea,
A pleasant place to visit, convenient too
Close to the village with its shop and café.

To me it is so much more than a footpath;
It’s an umbilical cord linking me to life
To friends who wave as they pass the window
To acquaintances giving their dogs their daily outing
To strangers with walking boots and poles
Setting off for a day’s hiking.

For years I avoided going to the village.
Too short for a car trip, too hazardous to walk.
Now that has changed.
For the sheer delight in walking
I stride along the Millennium Way
My personal pathway to Paradise.



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I am a poet, therefore I am crazy - see Shakespeare "the lunatic, the lover and the poet..." I also write plays and stories and do the press reports for my local WI. I ride a recumbent trike, a Hase Kettwiesel - I love it!

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