Did I Just Step On A Bluebell? Poem by Ian Bowen

Once, it seemed like I’d walk forever
on those thick, plush carpets
that kept dark the cracked,
stained concrete floors
of financial
greed and gain,
always aware of the politics
of world affairs, within the
bump and grind of commerce.

But today I walk
retired and free
through nature’s tranquil
woods and fields;
a more orderly path
that hushes the tension
of a once madcap past.

I now tread on unknown flowers
with a misplaced wisdom:
a modern man
in an ancient garden,
naive to the sylph-play
and ABC’s of Mother Natures game.