The Woods At Dusk

The woods at dusk, a lonely place,

a nook to hide I find.

A rush of leaves, a snap of twigs,

sounds playing with my mind.

 

Afraid to move, afraid to breathe,

my presence I’ll betray.

The midges bite, my legs are numb.

“Please no more”, I pray.

 

Images of fireside warmth

keep fleeting through my brain,

a glass of wine, a book, so snug,

as now begins the rain.

 

No perfume worn to give a scent,

no rustling clothes to hear.

I’ve done my best to stay unseen,

they’ll find me still, I fear.

 

Footsteps crunch, the branches move,

hairs stand up on my neck.

In mortal danger now, I feel,

can’t keep my heart in check.

 

At last they show, it’s all worthwhile,

the peanuts worked a treat.

My patience is rewarded,

young badgers at my feet.

by guinevere