The Pond

On Sunny Days, Early June,
All Alone I Sit a strewn.
With Laden Spliff and Aged Tome,
Permit my thoughts some Space to Roam.
A Nonsense Notion, Flitful Wish,
To Dwell a Day, as a Fish!
Swimming Swiftly through the Stream,
Watching Proudly Scales Agleam.
Water Pumping through my Gills,
Shunning Maggots, Hooks and Reels.
I’d Probably Fall in Someone’s Net,
For Lunch Consumed or Pray a Pet.
Relieved to Say, it’s not my Fate,
To be Prepared for Friday’s Plate.
I Spot a Hill, Alive with Work,
Allotted Dint they Never Shirk.
‘Observe the Ant’ Bade the King,
Constant Bounty, they do Bring.
Would they Queue? or get in Line,
when it’s Time for Ants to Dine?
Errant Bees, Abscond the Hive,
Nectar Drunk, in Flowers Dive.
Crickets Kicking Mozart’s Third,
Ludwig also can be Heard.
Scarab Beetles, Hoist their Load,
Flying, Falling, then Explode!
Dragon Flies, Bugs of Grace,
Find themselves a Mate to Chase.
When Blue and Red at Last are Met,
Purple Nymphs they thus Beget.
Beasts of Plenty, Small and Large,
I Watch them Freely as I Charge.
Varied Creatures, Strange Displays,
I Note Beneath these Solar Rays.
Sat Beside a Stagnant Pond,
That Place of which I am so Fond.

(Copyright (©) 2008. All rights reserved)

The Pond

Max Gatrell

London, United Kingdom

  • Artist
    Notes
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Artist's Description

A Slightly Lighter Composition…

Artwork Comments

  • Sally Omar
  • Max Gatrell
  • Gregory John O'Flaherty
  • MaryK
  • Rielle
  • sandraellen
  • tkrosevear
  • loramae
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