The end of Essex Road, the slope, the gates,
The entrance to the park, the green invites
The swans and geese are wrangling with their mates.
I idle on a bench and contemplate.
In ‘diligent indolence’ with Keats I write
The end of that old road, the curve, the gates.
I must embrace this life, enjoy my fate
The scent of hot damp trees, the feel of sight
The swans and geese are mingling with their mates
Oj joy of greeny grass, oh glorious state.
Oh dandelions and weeds, mosquito bites!
I like the way the road slopes through the gates
Oh heaven above, oh,earth beneath, all’s right
The celandines are brilliant with delight
The swans so white are gliding with their mates
The end of this dear road, the curve, the gates.
How my heart sings 