Walking Poems

July 9, 2019

A SIGN (For the poetry walkers)



We meet amongst breezeblocks and fumes,

the sustained roar of worn tyres

and the deep grind of twenty four hour lorries.


We turn our heads and loop up the cycle path,

past flowers beds, gratefully allowed to sleep off

a liquid lunch and within five transitional minutes,

man-made machines become background.


Wind begins to race through trees, birds premiere

their newest music with guest soloists, fresh air

eventually give us a natural high.


Under darker, cooler green, we hold hands and form

a silent circle, always a challenge for active

city mouths. Insects dance a foxtrot on my forehead,

pond life, emptier with each warmer year, collects more 

plastic and cans.

                             Suddenly, written in blood red,

is a sign posing the question we need to answer.

We adjust our circle and debate. I wake up. 



Brian Clewloe

Down Stockport Road to Highfield Park 
to walk around, seeing people and dogs 
and people having takeaways
and hearing sirens going past.

Pressing the bell for the bus to stop and 
seeing maps and trees in the park and 
touching the bench and the tables and
walking in the woods and smelling the flowers.


Bikes and babies in the park, 
crisscrossing pathways and routes to explore, 
sounds of water and more, 
echo of voices under the bridge, 
roots of trees digging under my feet.


I see the buses and the cars 
and the green trees, listen
to the music and the fire engine,
smelling the petrol and
car fumes and the air, feeling
the touch of the bus seats, 
reading the newspaper, 
feeling stressed and feeling happy.

Paul B

shops & exhaust fumes 
Lidl & restaurants 
mosque & traffic

Salvation Army & church 
sound of the bus engine &
people getting on 

cars & fences 
stressed out with it all
too many people

takeaways & sirens 
bus conductor & fences 
& kids playing

Paul B

grass & flowers 
dogs & bumblebees 
cabbages & the pond 
bushes & trees 
rhubarb & ladybirds
pine cones & ladybirds 

rustling in trees & birds singing 
people walking & kids playing 
Len’s humming & singing of opera
content, normal & serene 
I feel like I’m meant to live 
in nature & not concrete


People like to go for a walk in the park 
and the dogs like the water.

I like the flowers and trees, 
the kids playing and the pond.




What will quench the thirst in me? 
Will food be the antidote or medicine?
Appetite, oh appetite! Woman!!
Ripe fried plantain and beans stew
are on the list: Yes!!!
Wow! My salivary glands are on duty, 
secreting profusely.

Within minutes I was at the 192 bus stop. 
Two 192 buses appeared, 
the first one drove right past 
for I raised my hand too late.
The second arrived, hurrah, I was on
bus 192 to Longsight shopping centre.
Hurrah, joy, joy, off we went.

I bought my ripe plantain and a few 
ingredients and home we came
Within half an hour fried plantain 
and its friends were ready for eating. 
May God bless His provision.

Share on Facebook
Share on Twitter
Please reload

Please reload


July 10, 2020

July 7, 2020

July 7, 2020

June 25, 2020

June 22, 2020

June 22, 2020

June 8, 2020

June 8, 2020

Please reload

Recent Posts

© 2023 by Sasha Blake. Proudly created with Wix.com