POEMS - With Tongue In Cheek

[Eman]

I love both Keith!! Thanks for sharing! Wish I could send some of this California sunshine to you all!!

[karl]

Keith I thought you lived in Ireland?

[Marian]

Enjoyed very much your walk with Coco Keith!

[keithgood838]

Thanks for your kind comments Marian and Eman.
(Karl I was raised in wondrous West Cork.)
Barnet is blessed with scenic leisure-walk amenities,
consequently I am working on a sequel to Dog-Walking Duty -
watch this space.

[keithgood838]

DOG-WALKING DUTY
(The Sequel)

We jog up to the mini-park, Highlands Gardens,
and comply with canine rules with unsaid pardons;
where bewitching bridges straddling sylvan-set streams
could be what Hans Christian created in dreams.

From where options-offering ways through woodland weave,
we summon the strength of will to take our leave,
for with firm open space aspirations in mind,
the leafy remembered idyll is left behind.

Green man guided across the Great North thoroughfare
and urged on by Coco's eagerness speed to where
nature's shagpile feels lush-solid under our feet,
as we mark her leash-free liberty with a treat.

A few throws show us the way to Moat Mount Greenwalk
where I have mused: 'Coco, I wish that you could talk.'
Now we're metal to magnet Brook Farm Open Space
whose twin pathways obviate footsteps to re-trace.

As we make our left-fork, tarmac-enticed approach
houses playing the role of estate-lodge encroach;
where banks are steep Coco is content just to look;
at low level her slurps chime with the gurgling brook.

We hear the eidetic clunk of clubhead on ball;
I catch envied glimpses of players in the Fall;
Coco's approach to inter-species relations
engages me in congenial conversations.

In the eighteenth century Brook Farm's robust clay
produced fuel for the transport system of the day,
now it plays host to birds, butterflies and wild flowers,
and seekers of escape-from-it-all tranquil hours.

Turned off by the traffic stress of Totteridge Lane,
we are homeward bound with a High Barnet tube train.
We pause at the steps of Brook Farm Pavilion -
victim of an arson attack in ninety-one.

Rebuilt but now sadly padlocked into non-use,
yet a venue boasting car park and sweeping views.
We commiserate with Barnet FC's doomed ground,
and shall be bereft with no Bees buzzing around.

We take the quick route via bungalow-neat Kingsmead
as the pull of home makes Coco pull on her lead.
Given fate's vagaries one could not be surer
sans the likes of Coco life would be the poorer.

Keith Good

Guidance note: Dollis Valley Greenwalk lies alongside
the home straight of London Underground's Northern Line.

[Eman]

Keith, really cool and descriptive poem!! Love the vivid imagery.

[Marian]

Great poem again Keith, that's some walk, how long does it take you?

We had a much missed border collie Ben, who loved his walks in woods just at the end of our road, but sometimes I had a letter post to first (those were the days!) so at the end of road I'd just say "Post box first Ben" and as much he was longing to get to his freedom in the woods he would change direction towards the postbox a few streets away, but you can bet he remembered he hadn't been in the woods yet when we came back!

[keithgood838]

Thanks for your knowledgeable comment, Eman.
And your 'moving' reminiscence about Ben, Marian.
Now I am convinced that the poem works okay.
Coco and I commence our weekly outing at 2pm
and return home about two hours later. My canine
companion, bless her, has taken me on trips to
interesting parts of Barnet I would not have discovered
in the normal course of events. Man's best friend, indeed.

[Eman]

Keith, I love the descriptive use of imagery in your writings. It's really vivid and for me I can imagine what the writer (you) is experiencing, along with the sounds and smells of the place. That's what always blows me away when I read a good writer is how well he can describe and tell us about his surroundings without straying away from the story/poem.

[Marian]

I agree Eman. Very descriptive writing.

[keithgood838]

In contrast to the burgeoning harvests of August,
it is a disappointingly barren month for poetry.
All I can offer is an extract from my poem entitled
Calendar Characters. 'Tis a poor thing but mine own.'
As (I hope) you like it.

August lives up to his Leo nature
acknowledging his waving harvest fields,
which the sun and earth combine to nurture;
his promissory notes for bounteous yields.

[Eman]

Hey Keith,
No sweat on the poems. You just need to find something to inspire you and I'm sure the flow will be back.

[keithgood838]

I am touched (I guess you knew that ) by your
concern Eman. However, my muse has not deserted me.
You may have noticed that I have been posting a classic
poem inspired by each month of the year. Surprisingly,
fruitful August has let me down this time.

[karl]

August is my birth month Keith so how can it possibly let you down?

That alone is inspiration for a poem or an ode - surely?

[Eman]

Keith,
Yeah your muse is out there and will soon come to inspire you. I do think August does symbolize the dog days of summer and it's the month most kids dread as it symbolizes the end of vacation as September is the dreaded back-to-school month and all the parents are celebrating!!