HOME ALONG THE CANAL (Repost)A Poem by Phil Roberts
The wind shuffles the long grass
And the broad green reeds Shifting and rattling By the rippling black water Chuckling water fowl splash Swans and cygnets hurry past And the weather is on the turn It's time to be heading home The last of the daylight creatures And the very first of those of the night Are sharing this half-way hour The sky restlessly moves and changes And bruised clouds rush over head Like the rubbed eye-lids of a child A weary teary child Going home and ready for bed The slack and glossy water Laps at the stone beneath bridges Echoing with the ghosts of barges And spits of rain flick the air Studs of cold hitting the face Turning a collar to the cheek And urging aching feet Home-fire yearning me home By Phil Roberts © 2016 Phil Roberts |
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Added on January 15, 2016 Last Updated on January 15, 2016 AuthorPhil Robertsmacclesfield, north-west, United KingdomAboutI'm from the north-west of England where the rain lives. I am retired and a grandfather to many. I've led an "interesting" life, i suppose you could say, with lots of laughter and a few tears, like mo.. more..Writing
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