Out in the country
On my bicycle
I stopped, for a drink
From my flask of orange
I sat, on a bench
Beside the old canal
Which still does go, if somewhat half-heartedly
All the way to the coast
Young, urban youths
Tease the cows in the field
While their parents watch on
Sat in the car smoking cigarettes
I came here simply to be a quiet observer
To watch the grasses
Bend, and blow, in the breeze
Steadily, peacefully serene
Instead the continuous chitter-chatter
Even one might say the racket
Of the city-dwelling, uninvited intruders
To this rural, might I say, ‘countryside idyll’
They have gone now
All that are left
Are a few walkers, in isolation
And those colourful cyclists, in stretch lycra
