When the row-boats are moored on the café-side deck
and the shutters are closed for the day
and a coot tiptoes under the tables to peck
at some crumbs tumbled off a tea tray,
then the lake stills and settles around the low quay
and the elegant grebes paddle by,
calling, ‘Ca-ca-ca-ca-ca!’ and whistling, ‘Wuh-ree!’
upon shimmering mirrors of sky.
When the children abandon the small wooden swing
hanging down from a brittle-bark plane
by a length of grey rope fraying gently to string
swaying slowly through droplets of rain,
then the lake stills and settles around the old tree
and the elegant grebes paddle by,
calling, ‘Ca-ca-ca-ca-ca!’ and whistling, ‘Wuh-ree!’
upon shimmering mirrors of sky.
When the joggers stop pounding the waterside path
and turn homeward towards the far town
while the dogs cease their splashing in willow-lined bath
once their owners have called with a frown,
then the lake stills and settles around the calm lee
and the elegant grebes paddle by,
calling, ‘Ca-ca-ca-ca-ca!’ and whistling, ‘Wuh-ree!’
upon shimmering mirrors of sky.* * *
Once again, the P-i-R apologises for a few months of non-attendance, due to a rickety hip <(:-0 (sigh)
The above is intended as an interval piece, while I wait to receive instructions on how to use WordPress, enabling me to relocate to the new site. (There is no rush with this, as my work schedule is full at present!)
Recently I received great praise for my 'Opus pigeon', together with a request for something similar, so I'm delighted to post this piece inspired by the sights and sounds of dear grebes in Lower Lake, Pittville Park. They were especially active when I visited the park with Mr T. and an uncle and aunt earlier this summer. Later that evening, as I listened to Chopin's Barcarolle in F sharp major, they made a reappearance in my mind, swimming in time to the music.
The rhythm of the poem, per two lines, is ~ ~ – ~ ~ – ~ ~ – ~ ~ – / ~ ~ – ~ ~ – ~ ~ – and here is a link to Chopin's superb piano piece: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f99mfQOldx0
<(:-)
