Analysis of An ancient mane

Under peacefull observation I tread . Along the old dirt road . Feighned in musky odour of marshland steam . I acknowledge thee . You , a beckoning goddess of banter , yet bain . I embrace the tell-tale voice , your messenger the mocking bird , harmonising the praise intended to woo all those , who invests in clear proximity . The breeze dancing in ghastly frolock , meets me head on at the sycomore tree . To embrace and fend me amidst a hovering inferno in jolting glee . I'm at a crossroads in my bravado , to hold nature at bay , and lead with an iron fist reighn , or enjoy an ageing grain . Baffle me not my courtship , for failure of modern sattire to display . For I fare a canning arbour abreast an ancient mane . I boast not on trodding hooves .Yet through gusty gallops , I'll gain .A timely tale of frothy advent . Captured and yet to be framed .