Sun shines, leaves aquiver
Trees of red and brown surround
Dappled paving, windows glitter,
In the woodland not a sound.
Golf course basks in light supreme
Sun reflects on shiny clubs
Chipping to the nearest green
Muffled clunk of ball on steel.
People move and voices chatter
Under sky of cloudless blue
Overlooking ruffled water
Breakfasts nourish life anew.
Cleaners clean and Hoovers hum
Last night’s debris all has vanished
Bags are loaded into cars
To our homes again we’re banished.
A lovely morning poem, Joan, Reminds me of something by William Carlos Williams in spirit. Also reminds me of how quickly it seemed the weekend was over - short, but sweet!
ReplyDeleteBanished!!!!!!!!!!!!
ReplyDeleteYou did it! Muffled clunk of ball on steel. Love it.
ReplyDeleteBrilliant poem apart from the fact that Tulfarris is spelt with an 'a' not an 'e'. One could be fooled by thinking this is written by a really sweet person, all witnesses to drawing room conversations revolt!
ReplyDeleteI am really a sweet little person - reports of my ribald humour are all lies!!!
ReplyDelete'ribald'= humorously or mockingly rude, or obscene. Which suits best?
ReplyDeleteI'll settle for humorous!
ReplyDelete