barnes pond

A concrete path encircles the pond,

Like a ring road around the edge of a city,

Where dog walkers, cyclists and pram pushers,

Form a regular flow of traffic.

A thick wall of reeds line the water,

Clearing occasionally to provide a view,

Of swans and seagulls sashaying,

Across the shimmering green surface.

Ducks and geese prune and preen,

Chattering together, atop the sandy bank.

Cooing, quacking, honking and tweeting,

Like a gaggle of gossiping old women.

In the centre is an island,

Where trees stand tall, like skyscrapers,

And smaller plants, bushes and shrubs,

Provide a home for the pond’s dwellers.

Every now and then, a large duck takes flight,

Like an aeroplane soaring to the skies,

Flapping and splashing its way out of the water,

Ready to explore life on the other side of the pond.


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