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On The Boundary

Rating: 1.9

I Love the ancient boundary-fence,
That mouldering chock-and-log.
When I go ride the boundary
I let the old horse jog
And take his pleasure in and out
Where the sandalwood grows dense,
And tender pines clasp hands across
The log that tops the fence.
’Tis pleasant on the boundary-fence,
These sultry summer days;

A mile away, outside the scrub,
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Dr Antony Theodore 28 September 2020

He often finds a spotted cat Hid in a hollow log; He’s very near as old as I And ought to have more sense, I’ve hammered him so many times Along the boundary-fence. a very fine poem. tony

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