A Walk in Lockdown

AuburnScribbler

Just like the rest, who wish to take the air,

I partake in the new legislative habit,

by putting on my fabric shield, and scrubbing

my dutiful meat hooks, in order to walk.

 

I leave the Spring, and head to the Sconce,

where Charles and Oliver had their bloody chat,

though it’s far stiller now, as the wind gently

brushes through the blades of the grass.

I climb the hills; where the cannons fired,

and then I stride with the Devon, where

swans join my promenade, and our eyes

make contact, and though we have a lack

of language, we understand each other’s need

to energise. After this, I then salute dear Tom,

a friend long gone, but who is never forgotten,

and my mind’s eye hopes that his spirit saw.

 

I quit the Sconce, to head to the Castle and

to the Riverside, where I played to thousands,

but in order to do this a detour is made via

Millgate, where I worked a three man job,

where my heart was weakened, but my mind

was toughened and tested, and I look up at the

window of Melford House, where I sat, with

a compounded thought of nostalgic tension,

then familiar faces pleasantly interrupt the

moment, and we greet each other, with I hope

a mutual relief; that it was nice to see one another.

The fleeting instance passes, and my mind

briefly splits into two, it was truly nice to see

them, but with the long time that has gone by;

not seeing them, they were like ghosts of my past,

thus, the second I looked up, it was horror first,

but then it became the friendly encounter as it was

supposed to be, as it should be, in such hard times as these.

 

I now reach the death place of King John, old

Newark Castle, and I survey the grounds, with

the mental pretence; that I am one of his courtiers,

reminiscing of what unfolded, and conceptualizing,

of what really happened, but then the modern world

floods back to me, as the siren of a nearby ambulance

whirs, then my feet take me past the bandstand, where

I make a left out of the gate, to tread across Trent Bridge,

and the river is very high, so high, I could give a duck

a high five, but I won’t, as I’ve been told it’s rude to play

with your food, so I continue on with my hands still dry.

My peepers look right to the sunken Barge, where

the pints, the wine and the squashed frogs flowed,

and they will again, as these churches in disguise, the pubs,

will open their arms once again, for my embrace, where

I can vent, I can share, I can cry and laugh, but I will hold

on to such a thirsty thought; as I need to continue with my walk. 

 

The Riverside Park, is my last stop before I return home,

but I will drink it in, to savour this visual cocktail of the

ancient and the new, with more smiles reaching out to

me, with each smile telling me, that although we are still

in a loathsome lockdown, we are all in the same boat,

and we will paddle hard to reclaim our normality. My

thoughts become a pictured memory, as I remember

the day; where I played to the multitude, where there

was jubilant sound, instead of a decaying silence, but then

I recall the smiles that I have seen today, thus my words

are far too coarse, thus I continue with my course, with

a happy and thankful heart, with a dream to hold on to.

 

When I return to number thirteen, I pour a glass

of something cheerful, to toast to a simple thing, and

that thing is: I am alive, I am loved, and of course, I issue

a vote of thanks, to my feet, my vehicle, of who I adore,

so, to many more wondrous walks, across this floor.

  • Author: AuburnScribbler (Offline Offline)
  • Published: January 29th, 2021 06:58
  • Comment from author about the poem: Though we are still "locked down" most of us can still take in the pleasure of a good old fashioned walk. I am lucky to live in such as place as Newark, Nottinghamshire in the UK, as when it comes to walking, you are spoiled for choice. To mention just a few, there is the Sconce, which is just around the corner from me, where sieges of the English Civil War took place, and the river Devon flows through it. There are also the grounds of Newark Castle, and the adjacent Riverside Park, which has a memorable place in my heart. This poem is a narrative of a typical walk that I make, and have made, to brighten up my mood during these horrible times. I hope you enjoy the poem, happy walking and please stay safe everyone.
  • Category: Nature
  • Views: 30
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Comments +

Comments3

  • orchidee

    Good write AS.
    Me own walking poem was a bit less historical: 'I passed the site of a former Co-op and Red Lion...' Well, it may have been an old pub! lol.

    • AuburnScribbler

      Thanks orchidee, hope all is well.

      Just as long as you are enjoying your walks, and you never know, if your Red Lion is, in the words of Chaucer an "olde pubbe" who knows, a King or Queen of old could have supped there. Also the convenience of walking passed the Co-Op means that you can get a bottle of something cheerful on the way back to both celebrate and rejuvenate. Clink! Hiccup! Haha!

      Thank again, and please do take care.

    • Jerry Reynolds

      Good read AS. Walks are inspirational for me as well.

      • AuburnScribbler

        Thank you Jerry, glad to hear that you agree with the inspiration of walking. Please do take care.

      • Goldfinch60

        Wonderful words Ben, those walks can bring back so many wonderful memories, I too walk most days, normally next to My River, the River Avon.
        When I was working I used to go to Newark Council occasionally to sort out their computers.

        Andy

        • AuburnScribbler

          Thank you Andy, and oh yes, I can imagine the great walks that you've had; along side the great River Avon. Perhaps you've gone by Straford, Shakespeare country, or have walked passed Warwick Castle?

          Good to hear that you've graced Newark with your presence, and if I ever need to know who to thank for the steady running of the communal computers, I know now.

          Thanks again, and please do take care.



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