Crimson’s Creative Challenge
Now settle down and listen well,
for a rambler’s tale I here do tell:
I walked, you see …
Through fens and fields in various states,
over broken stiles and five-bar gates;
I took a break upon a bank
(shoes removed, already rank).
But hark, list you, what’s that?
A thunderous throb and it approaches,
booms and bellows quite atrocious,
roaring along that narrow lane.
Yay, it’s Atilla the Tractor been driven insane.
Up that grassy bank I scrambled
Almost was my final ramble
True story. There wasn’t a toe’s gap twixt those big wheels and where I’d sat.
crispina kemp 
Lucky escape!
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It was just after lunch, and I think the driver had been to the pub. He showed no signs of slowing. Probably thought it hilarious to give us a scare.
Anyway, I got a post out of it!
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Nice picture, inspiration for my quickly whipped up whimsy at http://bobfairfield.org/2019/06/06/ccc-30-this-farming-life/
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I enjoyed your whimsy enormously
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What fun! The read I mean, not being nearly devoured by Attila!
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I thank you, Violet. And of course: a tiller of soil, a tractor. Though I named it that for its frightening aspect. It was like a horde of Huns helling at me.
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Great write Crispina, Though I did find it funny, I’m glad you came away unscathed.I enjoyed the poem very much and laughed..sorry lol
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It was meant to amuse. Though at the time I did rant about drivers’ disregard for walkers
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A problem I encounter almost everyday in the city LOL but not from tractors with mean faces. Mostly drivers on cell phones not paying attention. lol
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Ah, maybe that was it. On his mobile, arranging his jollies for the weekend.
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Great poem dear, sorry for what happened.
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I survived. And leaping up that bank was good exercise. 🙂
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LOL, sorry to laugh.
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I laughed too. Once I’d expressed my opinion of the careless driver.
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🙂
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Close call!
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But, to crack a cliche, a miss is as good as a mile.
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One has to be so careful when in the country. I imagine it would have been quite terrifying.
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I expected the driver to slow, to allow us to move. There was no verge my side of the lane, but a bank that rose at least 8′ (old country lanes are more like hollow-ways). However, there was woodland to the far side of the road, which would have been easier. But to reach it when he wasn’t slowing? So I climbed and threw myself flat. I’m not sure I was terrified; it was all so fast.
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Oh my! I am glad you made out well and alive. 🙂 This is such a wonderful poem! I love it.
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I thank you. Both for your comment on the poem, and my survival. I do wonder if the beast would have yanked on his anchor at the last moment if I hadn’t scarpered up that bank. I still think he’d been drinking.
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Oh my goodness!
What a great poem and rather glad you escaped Attila’s “jaws”…
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A bit of fun. Though it is a true story. And I did have to scramble fast up the bank, which was step.
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I saw that!
And, you manged to scramble back down to take a picture 😉
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Now, I’d already taken the picture, about a mile down the road, it was parked up on a supposedly public path. Had to squeeze past it, snagged on brambles and stung by nettles.
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Oh dear!!
A memorable day in more ways than one!
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Indeed. And I was trying out a new trail. 🙂
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Wow – too close for comfort! I’m so glad to hear no damage was done – beyond the shock of its sudden appearance. Great poem, Crispina! 🙂
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I thank you, Sammi.
I was walking along a similar rural lane last week, almost vertical banks rising 12′ above me (I do not exaggerate) and I heard something coming up behind me. I hastened up the hill, to find a convenient ‘passing place’. And the gentleman-driver allowed me the time. Phew!
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