You see, for me, every day is Park Day! So to celebrate my daily walk round the local park, Gail suggested that I compose a poem.
Here goes (with some help from Gail):
Snapshots of Duthie Park
Winter mornings. Dark, sharp, cold,
Dogs are sporting flashy disco lights,
Their ghostly owners wrapped in Marks and Spencers' shrouds,
The wind that's crossed the river gathers bite.
A weekend afternoon in Spring,
Much optimistic pallid flesh exposed,
Goose pimples notwithstanding, those from Aberdeen
Think, if the sun is out, they need few clothes.
Light evenings, masochists enrolled
In British Military Fitness race
Around in circles, yelled at by
Instructors thick of neck and red of face.
Summer Sundays: barbecues, picnics,
Ice-cream cones lightly held by dog-height hands,
Those kids with flappy arms and high pitched shrieks,
Will tempt a chap to disobey commands.
And by the pond exquisite model boats,
Are all controlled by older men, sad,
One suspects, because their sons
Prefer to lurk indoors, tending their (i)Pads.
A coach from Elgin parked beside the gate.
A line of grey-topped green enthusiasts
Make for the Winter Gardens' warmth,
But pause en route to give cute pups a pat.
The cricket pitch brings out a different crowd.
Brown skins exotic still, in Scotland's chilly north.
When game's in progress I am not allowed
To dash across the grass and chase the ball.
But mostly we are lucky in our Park
Few rules constrain us pups, we're free to run
No lead required, we socialise,
Explore and play, and have enormous fun.