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Walking Back to Happiness

Last week I managed to walk six miles or so.

This Tuesday I walked three miles along the canal.

My God it was warm and how thirsty I was at the end!

I went straight to the pub for a pint, to rest and reflect.

One hour and fifteen minutes to walk three and a bit miles.

And here at the bar, by my side was a man in a wheelchair.

He had had both legs amputated below the knee.


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On a trip, away from the normal Normans,
Behind me, two noisy transport links.
The low rumble of a dual carriageway,
And the long, cutting swish of high speed trains.

Ahead, canals. Grand Union,
A railroad of a different kind.
No many in sight enjoying the late morning sights,
Those that are contemplating how things change.
On a bank, near a wood, along the canal.

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the rustle of reeds

narrow boat purrs along country canal

shirring quiet water

rumples flotilla of ducks and black coots

barely missing lazy feet

washes a moor hen into wet roots

wink of red unmistakable

and the reeds whisper

bending trees sough above the bow

that sighs through purling water


swallows swoop and soar

dark silhouettes

scything the sky

skimming ...

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Life's Towpath


We walked the canal towpath in a gentle summer haze,
watching a lock leak water that seemed to go on for days,
our collie was running ahead and kept turning to watch us dawdle,
but we were in no hurry then as time seemed to present no hurdle...
It was the mid eighties and we were just two lovers, with one dog,
marriage was fine as we were, holding hands with no r...

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