How would he write the poem today?
He couldn’t wander aimlessly
trespass Laws and vagrancy
are rather clear – with right of way
he could well be a lonely cloud,
see daffodils in crowded dance
but dare to pick one – not a chance
(you’d better know it’s not allowed)!
And where they danced along the bay
the waters gone – the margin lost
the trees are lopped the Lake reclaimed
the waters left have all been drained
to water grids at torrid cost
a-twinkle like the Milky Way...
© 11 June 2007, I.D. Carswell
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