pleasure and pain
I walk five miles on the flat
between alternating grassed and bouldered hills.
Walkings a natural thing to do
a normal practice that never deserts you.
So, here I am again
continuing much where I left off
not for the worse but for the better.
A cruciform skylark floats above
reclaiming its ethereal stage
thermal catching wings outspread.
The old dog's owner
wants him to move faster
pulls him by the chain to increase its pace
but can't cajole him into doing so
the aged canine keeps drawing back
jaws opening in a liquorice-lipped yawning show of tiredness
and gets to win the decision to turn around.
The cocoaesque muddied paths all pool patched
with overnight rain that threatens to repeat its fall
from liquid swollen clouds.
It's so easy to be put off from advancing
-windswept from all directions
not so much to the skin but to the bone!
I pass cottages
that are Jurassic semi-gargantuan's at rest
grey, craggy, and riddled with age; a squat chimney
with its iconic rook; meander the spikey conifered track
until suddenly a barn-owl swoops out from nowhere
to a nearby field
to display hovering skills
homing in on a rodent target.
A church bell rings somewhere out of sight.
There is a cafe I know in the distance
if I and my rumbling stomach can reach it in time
but my watch fingers point to disappointing numbers
'sorry mate! it seems to say
'don't blame me blame the bloody battery!
and just when I really needed a scone and cuppa!
instead, those annoying ogres bad luck, thirst and hunger
get their own way.
By the time I'm one again with my fire and armchair,
there'll be hardly a morsel left for any unexpected visitors.
Let them have a share of disappointments I say
as I selfishly wring the taste out of the very last teabag!