Oh, Little Bridge. - A Poem by Gerald Ainger/Cobb

Oh little bridge may I cross?

Where to go I am at a loss,

Back from where I came, Oh no!

It’s your direction I must go,

Oh little bridge you are in my way,

I must pass on this winters day,

Your railings are in need of some paint,

As they are looking a little faint,

Oh little bridge you are a star,

To cross you I’ve traveled far,

Looking across to the other side,

I see secrets you have tried to hide,

Oh little bridge spanning the stream,

To tread your boards is my dream,

Trickling waters bubbling over stones,

Soak my feet, ease my aching bones,

Oh little bridge I’ve changed my mind,

Another route I shall find,

My decision, not one that was rash,

I’ve decide to paddle through the water-splash.

 Dedicated to the village bridge

 in Brockenhurst, UK.

 I spent many a summer evening sitting on it’s railings

 playing the guitar.  July 1997.