A Ramble In Walsall

Tired of sitting down
The thought of a little walk
In my mind was sown,
I walked loiteringly along the road
Then stopped by to watch
The carefree juvenile crowd.

Unsatisfied like a grazing horse
I casually continued on my course,
Towards the bridging wooden planks,
Glancing around as I go,
On the rubbishy clovered banks.

On reaching the bridge, I paused to muse
Looking down below
Where the much clear waters used to cruise.
Oh, what a pity, now only a small stream flow
on one side, trickling gently, down to the gully
Where the green trees bide.

I watched some children play
On the swampy bed
As well as others in their gardens far ahead.
But, as I look around on the green fields below
Something began to pull me
Yes, I must go.

In front of me
The landscape was so beautifully spanned
Scrutinising, you would think
It was designed by hand.
I took my stroll, oh so carefreely
Down the efflorescent hill
Infusing with beauty, my eyes,
As I stopped by
For them to fill.

I carried on walking on my carpet of green
Listening transportingly, to the little birds
As they tunefully scream.
What is this other soothing tone that I hear
It is indeed a lovely unfamiliar sound
Attracting my ear.

My curiosity got the better of me
And I plunged through the twiggy fence to see.
There it was
The balm that was drawing
Those feet of mine
To give my mind some calming.

I stood by the stream for nearly an hour
Passionately absorbing the pleasantries
Of nature's healing power,
On my mind it had some marvellous effects
That wending, crawling stream
As down its course it ejects.

It was a haven there
For nature had banished my care,
She used the stereophonic sounds
Of waters lapping on each ledge
And the melodies of the dazzling birds
Springing from hedge to hedge.

My pleasure was only marred
By some empty cans and crapey clothes
That slimly scarred,
My miniature river bed
And my nearby pastel meadow-spread.

Nevertheless I walked away from my bliss
Feeling contented; by knowing this,
That although my scenery was slightly afflict'd
I did enjoy my Maker's gift.

I sauntered back to church
Over the dandelioned and primrosed field of grass
Determined to keep in my head
The experience I had just passed.

I sat in my pew
Thanked my Creator
And hoped that we would take care
Of this wonderful world we share.

Clifton L Pinnock

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A. T. Page Aaminah Adam Sedgwick Barnard Al Daffern Alfred A. Cole Alfred Moss Alicia Stawicki Alison R Reed Andrew Clayton Andrew Simon Angela Garratt Annie Colenso Symons Anonymous Anzel Mahmood Arthur Brockhurst Arthur Cyril Harrison Bryan Griffin Carolyn Bayliss Catherine Gorvin Catherine Wilson Christine Beebee Clifton L Pinnock Daisy Daniel J Robertson David Calcutt Dee Howell Dennis Wright Dolores Grant Dom Donna Hill Dorothy Pattison Edward F. Joyce Elaine Taylor Elijah Stanley Elisha Slater Emily Lea Ermine Campbell Francesca Jackson Francis Paul Palmer Frank George Layton Frederic W. Willmore George Cotterell George Evans Gloria Reid Harold M. Barrows Harold Parry Herbert Bennett Hubert Deacon Harrison Ian Henery James A. Aldis Jennifer Beth Blake Jessie Lee Shannon Joan Warner Joanne Kendrick Joanne Shaw John Kilbourn John MacMillan Joseph Dixon Josey Durrant Josiah Turner Karoline Bobrowski Katie Hughes Leandra Gebrakedan M P Houslin Madeline Hindsley Manolita Margaret Lampitt Mark Bassett Martin Hughes Mary Darwall Matilda Cotterell Matthew Wells Maurice Birch Mercedes Michael Cronogue Mr Aitch Natalie Ivanova Neth Brown Oscar Roszczenko Otis Francis Paul Christopher Walton Paulina Kisiecka Peace the Poet Peter Wilkes R. M. Lockley Richard Archer Richard Leigh Richard Worrall Rio Lecointe Rob Edwards. Robert Curtis Robert Wlodarz Sharon Harlow Sir Henry John Newbolt Skiz1 Stuart Williams Supa MC Terence John Mills The Rev. A. Hampden Lee The Rev. Alexander Gordon The Rev. John H. Robison W. H. Robinson Yasmin Fatima Zebideejones

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