The hedgerows and the trees,
stand silent in the breeze
the warm silent sun
brings out the bees,
whose buzz abounds,
as Spring unfolds,
the footpaths come to life
and despite the distance rules,
people and dogs are rife.
The laws dictate to walk,
apart, which most obey,
signs of other ills bite us
as we go along the way,
exposed by the detritus
of discarded muck and bags,
left by the arrogance
of the lazy and the slags,
whose ignorance
sours the environments
needs and requirements.
Angered and annoyed,
my mild demeanour wonders
how easy it is to carry
half-mile to a bin I ponder,
one bag of shit when bins abound,
for the crap of their hounds.
One walk a day, I’m let,
across the paths and fields
instead of natural beauty, all I get
are bottles, cans and bilge.
Do farmers laugh I feel,
when crops are threshed,
and farm machines ravage,
not the wheat from the chaff
but, the dogshit from the cabbage.
