Many years ago when camping in a southern county
I was told about a legendary footpath which had not been seen since 1310
This interested me so I purchased a bag of brightly coloured plastic crabs
And with a great of precision I walked around the cricket pitch
Throwing these toys in various directions
It was a hot day
I finished my task as ten minutes past one
And left my beloved country to fight in three world wars
Many years passed and finally I returned to the cricket field
It had not changed only I had changed I had seen much so much death
Cities had been vaporised
Whole nations were no more
Scars held my body together as I had travelled far
But I was tired so very tired and I longed to find the footpath
Which had been missing for over seven hundred years
The coloured crabs were playing cricket and to make up the numbers
I agreed to be an outfielder
The score was 28 for 6
Which was not a perfect total
From the last ball of the final over the captain of the opposition
Hit a six which flew over the boundary fence
I chased the ball in vain and considered it lost
Until I realised that I had rediscovered the long lost footpath
The wars were now over it was time to start again
So I threw the ball back and walked though at least two scalding fields
Before I found an ancient bridge that crossed an ancient river
This is where I took my rest hidden under the wide arches cooled by a kind breeze
My death was widely reported but this was not the case
The only thing that had changed was that I could not longer be seen