Poem 112 of 230: FROM AN ECCLES FLAT - SPRING 2000
The bedroom window’s southerly views
Contained allottees paying their dues -
All kinds of veg. brought to fruition,
And youngsters receiving tuition;
Starlings and sparrows I’d often see -
On a roof or a nearby tree;
And, in a distant poplar, perched high,
The large twiggy nest of a magpie;
In spring, daisies would yellow the floor -
Matched by Forsythias, grown next door;
Behind terraces, a moony crest -
The Dome of the new Trafford complex;
And the moon itself, in the right spot,
Would light the night’s clouds up quite a lot.
The kitchen window’s northerly views
Included an agent selling news;
A butcher struggling with position -
Much sunlight aimed at his nutrition;
And a popular English chippie -
Mashed-peas and red-sauce on top, for me;
White gulls dotting a sombre grey sky,
Plus light- and large-aircraft flying by;
Walkers and traffic would make a roar -
At peak-travel hours all the more;
Handsomely-set skies, toward the west,
As the day’s sun took its nightly rest;
And a bucket-pond and ivy plot,
That, on a shoestring, I loved a lot.
(C) David Franks 2003 - from https://walkaboutsverse.blogspot.com
The bedroom window’s southerly views
Contained allottees paying their dues -
All kinds of veg. brought to fruition,
And youngsters receiving tuition;
Starlings and sparrows I’d often see -
On a roof or a nearby tree;
And, in a distant poplar, perched high,
The large twiggy nest of a magpie;
In spring, daisies would yellow the floor -
Matched by Forsythias, grown next door;
Behind terraces, a moony crest -
The Dome of the new Trafford complex;
And the moon itself, in the right spot,
Would light the night’s clouds up quite a lot.
The kitchen window’s northerly views
Included an agent selling news;
A butcher struggling with position -
Much sunlight aimed at his nutrition;
And a popular English chippie -
Mashed-peas and red-sauce on top, for me;
White gulls dotting a sombre grey sky,
Plus light- and large-aircraft flying by;
Walkers and traffic would make a roar -
At peak-travel hours all the more;
Handsomely-set skies, toward the west,
As the day’s sun took its nightly rest;
And a bucket-pond and ivy plot,
That, on a shoestring, I loved a lot.
(C) David Franks 2003 - from https://walkaboutsverse.blogspot.com
