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