The Intruder Poem by John Rickell

The day had long since gone
A glow to the west fading fast and sure
Foot fall insecure, twigs snapping,
moths and money spiders’ silks impede.
A gothic gloom weighs down
from trees once green and berry-laden
now in shades of black and grey.
Honeysuckle at the woodland edge,
memories of daylight hours recede.
This is a world I do not know
of badgers, voles; a secret place
which I intrude and stumble.
I am unwanted, no one lights my way
here another side of life
In which I hold no shares
do not understand as once I thought.
Each day I call, enjoying songs and colours
to rival Jacob’s coat, and plainsong monk,
but never once before this night
and never more again shall I intrude
this dark, dank, secret place