Once You've Turned Back The Clock Be Cautious When You Go Into The Woods To Walk Poem by Raymond Farrell

Once you've turned back the clock
Be cautious when you go into the woods to walk
The woods quickly dim and you lose sight
If the fields are dusk, the woods are night.

I saw the distant hardwood stand
Skeleton-like trees haunted the land
Golden rays focusing on a distant hill
Made the grass look greener still,

Perhaps that's what deceived me
Into shaking caution free
I paused in the field and stood
Then plunged into the waiting wood.

These woods I know like my own hand
Trees, rocks, lay of the land
Though dim lit everything I could see
Proved deceptively familiar to me.

Confidently I trekked a mile or so
Saw light fade and darkness grow
My brisk outgoing stride became a faltering gait
I stumbled forward then had to hesitate.

Lost, as lost as i could be
Sheer panic was triggered in me
I ran and fell, ran again
Finally gave up running in vain.

No more golden rays on a distant hill
Everything was dark and still
Carefully considering the paths I'd taken
Assuming my location if not mistaken.

I climbed a clear hill nearby
Tod give a good look a try
Not far off in the night
I recognized a tower light.

Like a beacon to a troubled ship
I focused and make the trip
Unwavering, I stumbled toward the light
And finally got out of the woods that night!