IT’S always a pleasure to arrive
By the banks of Cosmeston Lakes
Remembering a friend who used to dive
On Sunday mornings back in the day
And walking and talking with a soul mate
Whom I miss and is now far away.
The milky sun’s out, there will be rain soon
As the seagulls screech a most ugly tune
Fed by an old man who is here often
Snorting swans and ducks also on the shore.
I do not envy an out-of-breath jogger
Too tired to observe the beauty before her
As a lone dog walker contentedly strolls
For it’s early on this Thursday morn.
It’s good for the psyche watching swans glide
Feeling relived not to be trapped inside
And imagining the music of Tchaikovsky
Who if of course wrote Swan Lake.
There are gentle ripples in the blue water
Surrounded by verdant grass and trees
With detached swans’ feathers blowing in the breeze
As if excited children at play.
Every time I come here I never fail
To enjoy this fine lake set in the Vale.
Guy Fletcher
Pantmawr
Cardiff
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