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