My Other Life
fluffy, floating clouds dappling blue sky.
Wordsworth’s inspiration, mine parks
my precious muse too, inspires my poetry.
to wander through my local park,
ether in the day, or night time dark.
aromas fresh, assault me, all inspiring,
which one should I pick for my lady,
a red rose, a dancing, golden daffodil?
choice made, I stroll, deeper, harkening
a song, a blackbird singing, I stop, listen;
stopping to absorb its notes of purity.
suddenly in my face, a green woodpecker,
laughing, come join me, have some fun.
by that it meant I would have to run.
my legs, wary now, my running days done.
twas time, my watch said home o’clock,
not forced to turn about I sought respite,
a bench, with a view, golden daffodils
below oak, ash, alder, the lake now a mirror,
reflecting, reds, oranges, and mellow yellow.
nature, again had me entranced, romanced me.
late, I looked, my watch was angry,
I made for home, my wife, my other life.
© Mick E Talbot 2017/66