The Rambler’s Cup

The boots are worn the jacket is frayed
But they’ll last me one more time
And see me off along the track
This final hill to climb.

I set my foot along the trail
And break into a smile
The sun is high above the trees
At its brightest for a while.

Walking on down familiar routes
The scenery a welcome friend
The hills, the woods, a rippling stream
Meandering round the bend.

How exhilarating are the views
Stretching through the countryside
Forced to choose one above the rest
I never would decide.

Each is formed by nature’s brush
Forever changing with the season
Lost in awe I admire them all
I do not need a reason.

The leafy forest, the windswept hedge
Rolling meadows rising to a crest
The foot has treasured every single step
My heart is surely blessed.

I’m simply glad I’ve seen them all
Today’s the day for one last sup
I’ve toasted each and every one
And drunk from the rambler’s cup.

Now another path lies up ahead
It’s one we can’t eschew
One we all must take someday
Leading on to pastures new.

Roger Lee