Friday, 23 August 2013


No blog today so I wrote a poem.

White seeds of the hawthorn softly blown.
Yellow is the Water Lilly now fully grown.
Reflected bricks in the water arch.
Joyful tunes of the Skylark.

Rolling hills to the tall tree
Red Kites soaring so carefree
Reeds in the water dancing,waving.
Fry at the surface hiding,darting.

Swans confident and serene poise.
Quiet and still no mechanical noise.
Moorhens nodding chasing coots.
Nettles hiding a pair of pixie boots.

Ten balls of fluff need protecting.
Twigs and leaves busy collecting.
Flashes of blue the King is fishing.
Herons standing looking, waiting.

Pedalling slowly a new beer.
Ratchets rattling in lock gear.
Water rushing through openings narrow
Where next Windsor maybe Barrow.

Painted steel majestically rising
Through walls of damp are so enticing
Crews winding as they chatter
After you, it does not matter.

Great doors of oak open to the light
First the left and then the right
Engine murmurs below the deck
Bump the side but what the heck

We creep ahead to another pound
All this on the canal we have found.
Another day over and into the night
Knowing that this is all so right

Sue told me about the pixie boot thing, I didn't believe her until one day she showed me, when the nettle flower's you open the petal's and there they are a pair of pixie boots that look a lot like seeds.

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