Layby

To snooze, parked in a layby country lane Is but a dream -- the hawthorn hedge alongside Teems with life, with dunnock, orange-tip butterfly, A nesting blackbird now disturbed, wood mouse And vole foraging among the Harts tongue thorns -- All pause and wait. Then like a flood come sheep, Filling the lane, lollop and jostle, bleat Upon heartfelt bleat, and suddenly a ram! What pristine horns! What dreadnaught eyes! A ladybird lands on your arm, and nips, And wasps, a pair, fly in to look around -- Caught in a r ural rush hour, what chance has sleep.

We want to hear, did we miss an angle we should have covered? Should we come back to this topic? Or just give us a rating for this story. We want to hear from you.

Loading...

Loading...