Absent Or Abstention

Deep on a countryside outing
Superficial in shallow thought
Deep though in calorie counting
Naught needed to add to fraught

Deep into an English summer
Philosophy far from my mind
No way could I ever be a runner
I am of a quite different kind

Deep down, with escapist action
Theories are left to dwell
I am among a minority faction
And I feel so so incredibly well

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Not For Vehicular Traffic

I found a lane
A pond of open water
A gated road, securely closed
But with a footpath beside it

Indeed a well worn path
The grass having been cut back
With its remnants turned to dust
O what a magical summer

I am a little bit lost
Yet I can hear voices
So I step out, in that way
To find myself completely

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Routes To Rest

The one-time communal benches
Are now overgrown
There are signs of a fire
Scorched earth, black ashes

It was, back then, a place for friends
Conversations, discussions
Likely over a glass or two of wine
With slowly-smoked cigarettes

Time, as they say, moves on
Lanes, and pathways which once
Took us to the places we needed
To go to, are now here no more

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Noise Champion

Pigeons, crows, flies
Nature in all its glory
Trees, in for the long stretch
Ivy, as ever, running wild

The helicopter takes first prize
Did it’s inventor ever envisage
That it would make
Such a goddam racket

Thankfully the skies
Are not so crowded
The machine moves out of sight
As I return from my rant

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Still Noise

The slightest, quietest
Of overheard conversation

Yet you do feel the presence
You are not alone here

You hear the aeroplane
Even though you do not see it

You are aware of highways
And shops in the town

This isn’t why you came
But, always there are distractions

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