The Wild Wood

The plaintive sound of piping led me on.
I left the trodden path on which I stood,
and turned aside to where no sunbeams shone:
I entered, foolishly, the ancient wood.

I’d left the trodden path on which I stood,
There was no friendly sound of human speech –
I’d entered, foolishly, the ancient wood,
and normal life was somewhere out of reach.

There was no friendly sound of human speech –
indeed, I could remember it no more
and normal life was somewhere out of reach,
whilst tangling thorns clutched from the forest floor.

And now I could remember life no more.
Roots trapped my feet, low branches hit my face,
whilst tangling thorns clutched from the forest floor…
My lips were dry, my heart began to race.

Roots trapped my feet, low branches hit my face;
I’d turned aside to where no sunbeams shone;
my lips were dry, my heart began to race;
the plaintive sound of piping lured me on.

Elizabeth Horrocks

If you have any thoughts on this poem, Elizabeth Horrocks  would be pleased to hear them.