Clacking, clunking, gliding,
Jerky, smooth or sliding,
Motor, pole or rower,
The pace can’t get much slower.
Running, ambling, walking,
Silent or happily talking,
It’s all a matter of pace,
In this idyllic place.
On water or on the pathway,
Enjoying this sunny holiday,
Resident or paying a visit,
Somewhere quite exquisite.
Overhead the birds are singing,
In shops the tills are ringing,
The prices are astounding,
Holiday punters abounding.
But that’s part of the pleasure,
When taking time off for leisure,
Not having to count each penny,
Made easy when you haven’t any.
No worries to make us shiver,
We relax and watch from the river.
We have enough, keep warm and dry,
And watch life’s chaos passing by.
I am a retired number cruncher with a vivid imagination and wacky sense of humour which extends to short stories and poetry. I love to cook and am a bit of a dog whisperer as I get on better with them than people sometimes!
In November 2020, we lost our beloved Maggie who adopted us as a 7 week old pup in March 2005. We decided to have a photo put on canvas as we had for her predecessor Barney. We now have three pictures of our fur babies on the wall as we found a snapshot of Kizzy, my GSD when Hubby and I first met so had hers done too.
On February 24th 2022 we were blessed to find Maya, a 13 week old GSD pup who has made her own place in our hearts. You can follow our training methods, photos and her growth in my blog posts.
From 2014 to 2017 'Home' was a 41 foot narrow boat where we made strong friendships both on and off the water. We were close to nature enjoying swan and duck families for neighbours, and it was a fascinating chapter in our lives.
We now reside in a small bungalow on the Lincolnshire coast where we have forged new friendships and interests.
I just love the view of life from your boat. Rub Maggie’s sweet tummy for me
🙂 She thumps her tail in appreciation.
That was fun to read! It reminded me of a poem from the late 50’s about a train (The Royal Mail?) which was written such that the rhythm replicated the sound of the train wheels going over the track joints. Your poem gave the sense of “Holiday Traffic”! Very good.
Glad it all came across OK. 🙂