Posted on May 07, 2017 - 19:23
This was a 5-minute poem written in a Tesco's car park in early February...
The cry of the gulls echoes loud,
While winter air freezes,
The early sky has not a cloud,
It's weather for sneezes.
The gulls circulate on the hunt,
Are they just keeping warm?
There goes another airborne stunt,
Maybe they like to perform?
And while the gulls fly on the wing,
Then folk start to arrive,
Other birds sit in trees and sing,
The people chose to drive.
Coats zipped up against the cold,
The gulls watch from the sky,
It’s the same for the young or old,
The gulls still shout their cry.
I watch those gulls having their fun,
I think about the things to do,
While shielding my eyes from the sun,
But free, like the gulls too.
Then I get to wondering why
Since this is a big city,
Those gulls are flying so nearby,
Not the coast, so pretty.
The cry of the gulls reminds me,
Of a good place to be,
Of walks down a beach by the sea,
Glad to at last be free.