As if applause, a clap clap clap
Echos the evening air
As I walk past spectators
And yet, there’s no-one there.
It is no ghostly apparition
Of which these lands are famed
But mother natures creatures
Wild and free, swans… untamed.
Their wings slap against the surface
As to the sky take flight
I, a walker watches in wonder,
They soar high, out of sight.
I wonder what they think of us,
As we work and worry in our homes…
I wonder what occupies their mind,
Unlike fools like me, its not writing poems!