Off The Trail Poem by Hm. Nes

This rebel soul did quit the path and bid my legs to follow
Into the woods, no signs to guide, through gorge or mountain hollow;
Alone to blaze the trail, to choose which left or right to take,
To crest the knob below the bluff or climb to view the lake.

And taking longer
To cross each fallen tree,
Through tangled briars,
At times on bended knee,

At last, I came into an opening, deep in darkest wood,
So far from any road, I felt no eye had seen nor could;
No soul before had felt the thrill of this particular place.
I posed and took a picture of my own enraptured face.

While gazing on this rich display of nature's perfect form,
From vantage point above the lake, the sunset bathing warm-
Amidst the trees, I saw a gap, a bit more up and left;
From there, I mused, the vista'd be the undeniable best.

And making my way
'Cross rocky precipice,
Through muck and debris-
I heard a cry of bliss:

The voice said, 'Wow! ', unable to contain her reverent awe.
Then stumbling, sliding- desperately I tried by clutch and claw
To make my way into the clearing. 'Hi! ' I heard her say.
'Excuse me. Sir, do you need my help? Will you be okay? '

'No thanks, ' I said. 'I'm fine, ' I said, blood seeping from my palms.
'You're sure? ' she asked. My few terse words had not allayed her qualms.
'Just go! ' I almost shouted, quite perturbed by the hiker's gall,
But holding fast my tongue, I struggled on up the mountain wall,

And hoping to make
The clearing by sundown.
I heard: 'There's a lovely
'Trail that starts in town,

'And from the trail, the most amazing views are to be seen.
'But I'm afraid you've missed this one today.' She wasn't mean
To say it. It was just the way it was. And yet I knew
I had my wish- my own adventure, with a private view.