SAREHOLE MILL... POEM ABOUT BEING THE MILLER...

Sarehole Mill

Urban life rattles

On commuter route;

Recycling bins resound

To crashing glass

And profanities testify 

To some family dispute.

Pond life hides

In residential bustle;

Heron stands sentinel,

Testing a firmer perch

As mallards mingle

And coots hustle.

Predator life awaits

Above peaceful pool;

Kingfisher hesitates,

Alert on slim bough

Then snatches prey

From waters murky and cool.

Pete Ray

Sarehole Mill, waiting, dressed as a Victorian miller, for a class of children to arrive to begin a role-play session: ‘The Sarehole Mop’.