roads

How do You Know?

How do you know when you've gone too far,
down a road that's cruel and endless?
How do you know when you've gone too far,
down a road that's cruel and friendless?
Is it when the fog has you lost?
Is it when your heart is cold and bound in frost?
Is it when you cease to feel,
or when time can no longer heal?
Is it when you lose your hold?
Is it when you regret the lies you've told,
or is when you've gone too long,
Without your heart knowing what is right or wrong?

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A 483

It is arterial, the road
Constructed long ago
At places curving
And at others running
Straight as an arrow

It weaves through fields
Carpeted in shimmering light
Flowing beneath a cerulean sky
As it twists and turns
Like the sulci* and gyri* of my mind

The road is a myriad joy
Musical, scented with lovely memories
Of winding roads,
I befriended as a boy

Every twist and turn, every ascent and descent
Set my hormones raging
Joyfully
I gasp at the surrounding beauty, swirling

Like clouds from my cup of tea
I listen to the chattering brook
Bearing its fleet of twigs and leaves
In the distance, serene the cuckoo sings

And the song, the road and I are one
I see the music, I hear the light
The ensemble of the forest and infinite
Spinning wheels

Homeward bound

The road

Leading me on

Author's Notes/Comments: 

The A483 runs through Mid Wales and links north and south. It is 149 miles long and has the most scenic run. Surrounded by Nature at its best, I fell in love on the very first journey. This poem is a tribute to an extraordinary route.
* Sulcus (singular, Sulci (pleural) is a depression or fissure in the surface of the brain. It surrounds the gyri, creating the characteristic appearance of the brain in humans

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