The Laneway snakes down to the sea
The Laneway snakes down to the sea
Between bushes jostling for light
It’s a fine free for all in the country
On the old road that ends at the coast.
Nettles and thistles in combat
With tall grass and sallies as well
With each year that passes
The bushes grow taller
As natures reclaims her lair.
A laneway once busy with workers
Now rarely sees a soul
Sea breezes gambol and run
Along the green corridor for fun.
Away in the distance a cottage
Pretends not to notice or care
The kettle is boiling
The WiFi is working
With hardly a moment to spare
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