Search O’Er Lain Land (day 1590)

Glen to glen
I’ve wandered brooks
Searching for my
Crag with a hook

Little, though
My hearts dismay
Could effort swing
Precipice lay

For o’er lain land
My hoof she ran
Like orphaned seeds
Autumn’s light breath

Dagger be given
To the laughing lady
High atop as a
Clever tight rock

For no path could be laid
No gorge to ford
No eye to twinkle
Amidst sun-lit wrinkle

Now guide thee home
Pulse in thine known
I hear the clean broom
And dear Mother’s boom

20150825 - Monashees Mushroom Picking - Ned Tobin - 19

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