An Ode to Times Gone By

A vast landscape beckens onerous treks 

Entreating tilling rocks and honest thoughts.

Paths ahead intersect, awaiting steps

Lined along eager vines and ochre moss.

Let not glistening April snow bring fright,

Nor thunderous streams on opposing coasts.

Though stars are absent in the depth of night,

Yonder see, the amber glow of Lamp posts.

Such paths feign nescience, you’ve been here 

Daunting and dubious fortune appears

Yet relish the prospects - abandon fear.

You’re the product of nisus and four years.

Hark the cardinal’s call! Go past lines drawn

Your formative years are yet nigh, tread on