Graze by Harold Houghton

Walking down the country lane with rucksack on my back, I strode past tall hedgerows with gaps that gave me glimpses of cows in the field serenely grazing, unnoticed by me watching, as time past by I strode on, I looked for a place to rest my weary legs, a hillside path took me to a seat that embraced views of the wonderful countryside, I enjoyed my lunch grazing on sandwiches, cake and hot tea from my flask, I strode on, setting my feet to careful stride downhill on rugged path, I tripped, falling I grazed my knee, shaken I picked myself up and strode on.