Inbetween

Inbetween

The love-lorn leaf-littered forest-floor

Of auburn-Autumn

And the glass-bottle-green-moss-maze of wizzened trees,

I walk, together, yet unseen... 

Contents of a sensible head displaced by dreams... 

A mortal-mystic conjures a scene... 



Surreal serpents stretch, uncoil... 

From ivy-clad Gandalf staffs

Ghost-grey mists, entangle, goad me... 

Fears, in the form of fairies, take flight, 

As stags descend my steep surrounds;

The Lady holds me in her flowing embrace, 

Finds my whisper, strokes my face. 



Combes caress my aching heart

Inbetween is where I start. 



A Wensley

28.11.2023

Inspired by a walk through Bincombe and Lady Combe