Analysis of Along Flowered Trails

Just across the street from a home where at once upon a time, I’d laid mine weary head, winds a pebbled walking trail.
A place where peaceful gusts doth blow, and whistle through canopied tree lines as if to
harbor the most ghostly of souls.
Each day, wether sunny or grey, I walked the winding trail whilst allowing mine fingers to lightly, touch the wild flowers which grew along it.
An assortment of wildlife roamed freely, just within the woodland areas off to the side of the trail, only making themselves known by distant chirping and venturing out into the path within the wakes of mine steps onward.
A large lake with banks of graveled grass gave way to secrets of beauty to which nature, the very mother from which it had been born, could never keep hidden away.
As I continued mine journey along the trail, I was pleasantly, greeted by a family of deer only but a mere, twenty or so feet in front of me.
They gazed at me with a careful curiosity whilst they continued their foraging and of course, I’d not be interested in interrupting and continued on.
As I walked onward, the path would grow heavier with delightful aromas of the wild flowered, foliage surrounding it at every turn and before long, I came across a fallen oak tree.
I approached and placed mine hands upon it.
“What wisdom you must have held.”
I whispered, running mine left hand along it’s trunk as I continued on mine way.
A field of tall, yellowed grass off to mine right side beckoned and so I decided to oblige the curiosity of mine eyes, sharply veering off the pebbled trail.
Horses could be heard out in the distance on the other side of the field and I gave no doubt within the mind that they were happy at play and so, I ventured back onto the path I’d begun.
By this time the day’s light had been beginning to dim and of course, I’d no intention of continuing an exploration of beauty of which I could not see.
I returned home, hanging mine hat and jacket upon the hook next to the door and climbing the stairs to rest the wearied feet I’d walked upon and the very eyes which I’d used to take in such Beauty.
As long as I shalt breath and remain able to retain memories of image, I shalt remember always, the way I’d felt as I’d walked along flowered paths.