The Forgotten Lair

With tired and cataract-foggy eyes 

He stood gazing at 

The lush green glade 

and the arboreal stead.

 It's wooden fence with a rickety gate. 

Sunlight and moonbeam could easily filter

 through the gaps in the wooden rafters

of the old  hay-stacked barn. 

He lumbered on the dusty trail 

Moving towards the farm-

To its familiar sight and sound. 

Grazing cows, clucking hens 

And lilting tune of a bird song. 

Sighing in vain he remorsefully touched

His weather-worn face with his work-worn hands. 

He tried recalling his childhood memories

 of life and land he had forsaken

 to pursue his cherished dreams;

that he as a young lad had dreamt. 

Caught in rat race he had denied his origin; 

To which he now returned all spent, 

To life, he had ignored, 

To his the lair he had forgotten...