Come this way

Sun-dappled, blousy and undisturbed
in sweet May's floral embrace held,
fox-badger-fowl scent-laden, blooming
along witch-ways, the old English ways,
he strays, caught in the willow's sweet pillow-talk,

And finds a young maid, cursed to lie in wait
for English travellers on spring mornings,
unravelling in her limpid reflection, fawning
on her, on the trees and the heavens.
Come this way, she whispers, wet yourself-
Let brother sunshine dry you on the other side.

Only once tempted, with turbulence aroused,
does our helpless wanderer turn, blushing
to her sister, older, moral, jealous,
who by an enchantment in concrete and steel
offers an elevated, narrow way, awkwardly real.

He stays dry, but half-enchanted:
goes his way, but promises to remember.
The maid shrinks before her sister's triumph
in the warm springtime magic.