Poetry by Jeff Green



by cricketjeff on December 5, 2008.  © Jeff Green, All rights reserved

In soft December sunshine the canal is shining bright
A narrow boat is lazing on its way
To see if I brought breadcrumbs that old goose is taking flight
While moorhens never seem to want to play

The bridge that sings with echoes hides a pair of spooning swans
While on the grass the sparrows scrub around
The mallards seem to wait for love, a gang of hopeful Johns
While seagulls fight for every scrap that’s found

The Cornish pasty in my hand is hot and filled with beef
I feel the gravy running down my chin
A blackbird keeps an eye on me he wants to be a thief
He thinks he’ll pinch my pasty for his kin

The footpath that I have to take leads back to urban noise
The afternoon is calling me to go
The playground of a local school is filled with girls and boys
A break in learning all there is to know

It’s scripts and tips and what’s gone wrong, and can I put it right
Not sonnets filled with love and thoughts of you
A few more hours of this and that before it’s home at night
Tonight there’s better things that I can do

Author notes

For those not from round these parts a moorhen is a small ducklike bird