My Poetry. The great outdoors.

White wild-flowers are growing,
Loving the gentle, mild weather.
Young mums push buggies in the park,
Babies with bottles hitting the mark.

Dogs of all sizes are chasing a ball,
Some small and tiny, others growing tall.
The green-keeper is busy doing his rounds,
Checking the cloudy fish-ponds, marked out of bounds.

It is a blissful place to be today,
With park benches full and no reason to stray;
A maintenance man works, using his simple tool,
The air is warm and wonderfully cool.

Picnics are widely laid out on the grass,
It's time to eat, letting the good moment pass.
A chance to get some proper rest,
Put up your tired feet and feel truly blessed.

But now it's time to gather up and go,
The children are sad, their energy low.
Sleepy toddlers are quietly carried by Dad,
The perfect end to the best day they've had.

A simple day spent in the park is what you need,
So visit one soon—its joy is priceless indeed.

© William Sinclair Manson 2025