Boots squelch,
Mud sucks,
Striding out.
Tough, friendly boots,
Rich, red-brown,
Fasten me in.
Fresh wet air,
Misty breath,
Satisfying lungfuls.
Take in the country,
Fields and tracks,
Gather it in.
Marching along,
Loving the land,
With my feet.
(sing) “I love to be a rambler”,
Hiking around,
In mum’s old boots.
Long legs like mine,
Step alongside
Walking with me.
By Wendy Alford January 2007






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