Please, take these thoughts

Lured by the need to lose the daily grind,
Amidst the greens and browns that are easy on the eye
And gentle on the soul. I seek out
Wilder places, where solitude can roam.

The lonely path through the bracken,
Little more than a rabbit run,
Twists and widens then narrows tight,
Between nettle stings and thistle barbs.

As plants seem torn, between the welcome blackberry
And the, not so welcome, thorn.
“Here, here, take my fruit, my seeds,
But leave my self alone.”