Beautiful poetry set in a forest.


Delightful was the stroll through the forest…. The air was heady with summered scents and the Faint mists of pollen adding a lazy haze Alongside the detailed babbles of the brook that ran cleanly through the
Rocks, risings and ancient roots of the
Floored haven. Our traveller wearied of life, found peace here.
The sound of water drew his mind away from the noises in his mind, The forest itself murmured and breathed out it’s own
Atmosphere and sense of place.
Rendering the strolling man in a pleasant limbo state. He had been on travels for some time now.
But felt somehow he was being drawn towards
A new twist to his travails and storied events within As he approached the beginnings
Of an urban nature.
He was after all approaching a bustling city now. People began to appear here and there.
Some in peace and out for the air. Some appear to be commuting, he internally
Commended them for taking this route as opposed
To being gnarled up in toxic traffic. But….some were taking their dogs for walks.
A good thing to be sure…..save for a very small minority of dog walkers
That can’t be arsed to pick up after their fucking dogs. He stepped on a big fucking dog turd.
Dirty twat…he thought.
Fucking dirty smelly arsed cunting twat he thought. His left boot smothered in fucking dog shit.
He went off and rubbed said sole off on the grass. But there was still yellow, foul smelling fresh soft shit
Embedded in the treads of his boot.
Bollocks
Fucking bollocks.

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