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Storrington, West Sussex, United Kingdom

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Saturday, September 10, 2011

The Walks

 
I hear the pitter pat                                
of the rain on my hat                                
and the hiss                                   
as the drops                                  
hit the grass.                                 

My sodden jeans cling                         
like a rain-soakéd thing             
to my legs                                       
as I stride                           
down the path.                             

The dog rushes by                                            
with a glint in his eye                              
as he startles                                                        
some birds                                                             
into flight.                                                               

There's a shriek of delight                 
from two girls at the sight                    
of the dog                                                              
dashing 'round                                                     
in the rain.                                                  

Water drips from his face                    
he's a total disgrace;                             
mud speckles                                                        
his body                                                                  
in spots.                                                                  

He chews on some wood                                
as only he could                                                  
stripping bark                                                       
from the branch,                                                   
then runs on.                                                                     

Then later that day
in the usual way
the sun sets
and the night
gains domain.

We walk the silver path
that winds through the grass
as the clouds
pass the Moon
up on high.

The raindrops that fell
upon tin rooves, leave a smell
of eucalyptus,
fresh grass
and dank mud.

When the walk is complete
I dry the dog's feet
then sit down
to reflect
on the day.

The dog eats his food
then adds to my mood
by settling
down on
my lap.

Then we both make our way
at the end of our day
to our beds,
where we dream
of new walks.

~




2 comments:

  1. Nice atmos Tony!

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  2. Fine piece!
    One tiny item; "raindrops that fell" - I feel it should be "raindrops that fall". But that would break the rhyme, the fixing of which potentially introduces further complications that could detract from the effect.

    ReplyDelete