Walkies
The gale that bent both trunk and branch and cruelly shattered
twig and leaf
To quietude and peaceful ease showed no respect,
brooked no belief
I listened for a time and thought what
mighty sound the wind had made
The crash and bash of wood on wood
sufficed to make the dogs afraid
The moment that this
thought occurred another thought in challenge rose
The wind makes
little noise itself and much less than one might suppose
So
whence therefore came all that noise that shattered bark and
banished peace?
That broke the spell that had me bound and caused
all simple joys to cease?
Conundrums such as this I love,
they're fuel for poems and monologues
But that is for another
day, I'd better go and find the dogs.
Copyright Allan Bantick December 2017