Nature's Way
If I were to stray from the straight road,
meander along twisted olden paths
let me not see an ordered place
like some new grown garden
designed by some modern nursery
to whom you must pay a hefty price.
Give me the lonely winding trails
lined with hard square granite
which farmers use for rubble walls,
that in turn give some shelter
to the prolific cape sorrel
swaying their yellowish flowers
with light sea gentle breezes
that fill the air with misty sea breeze
and manure maturing in the sunny rays.
A sudden bend might reveal
the reddish volcanic scoria
so oft used in Christmas cribs.
Afar dogs bark and jump with glee
at birds that occasionally fly low,
while the stately old palms
stand like a rock at some juncture
in this heavenly bliss.
At last a wooden bench I'll find
not far from carob trees.
There I will rest alone at peace
as far away as possible from it all.
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