Around Peter’s Lake

Daydreaming around Peter’s Lake,
The ripples glitter, swans sway
The grasses pray to the footbridge.

On the grass lie teenagers fingering
Blades of summer, softly spoken
Lives not yet moulded in the darker clay.

I meet a grey-faced step-taker
His eyes punctured, mouth stitched
His thoughts hitched to more youthful days

The bench seats a patient from St. Davnet’s
Blowing smoke, his frame fidgets
As drugs tame the wild in his blood.

And mad Mossy wears his chest
Tattoos and nipples, proud hairy shroud
His whispers louder than his ways.

Mary walks her over-worked poodle
Her mind scolds, her frowns whip
Her son’s slip to slave of the cursed gin.

I hear the chapel play its music box
As children sprint, their plans unknown
Their dreams blown through the morning haze.

While walking around Peter’s lake
The ripples glitter, swans sway
New days unfold for the daydreamers.

Shane Martin

If you've any comments on this poem, Shane Martin would be pleased to hear from you.