May 11th, 2020Local Lines : The Loddon’s up
The big four banks have shut their squiffy eyes
to the fates of people they robbed with such aplomb.
Though whitewash covers their criminal enterprise,
we see their faults and know where they’re coming from.
Here in Glenlyon, the only banks are the Loddon’s.
What a relief, to sit here watching the water,
at peace with the flow of time and feeling unmodern
in the nakedly open ancientness of nature.
Capitalism dies broke, but what’s being born?
Maybe a global dictatorship this time,
a communism emerging out of the storm
of shut-downs and fears and making freedom a crime.
A source of satirical humour for decades to come,
our time is a time of not-so-funny limits,
but here by the Loddon, the tune the river hums
uplifts me by the spirit of nature in it.
Mushrooms are popping up like little moons.
We’ll hear the frogs’ quaint choirs in the night.
The trees will sweep the clouds with leafy brooms.
In nature, every autumn turns out right.
Now’s the time to visit the Falls, where the rain
has forced the flow to dash and splash at the rocks.
Negative ions fill the air again
and the thrill of it all is enough to warm your socks.
As ever, the world is rorted by stupid men
who favour, not love, but power to have their way.
They come and go and come and go, but then
they disappear by the Loddon. Hip hooray!
James Baillie lives in Glenlyon and runs a business called ‘The Arthritis Man’. He has been writing rhythm and rhyme as a hobby since age 11.
Poems for Local Lines come predominantly from a group of poets. However, other locals who would like a poem considered for publication can contact Bill Wootton – email@example.com