Ceridwen, nestling into its Welsh valley:
It’s National Poetry Day today, with a theme of “stars”. Lots of events all over the country but if – like me – you can’t make it to any, let’s at least read a poem (or several) and perhaps even write a few lines. I’ve seen FaceBook comments that Poetry Day is daft because poetry is something we should immerse ourselves in every day. Well, most people do not (remembering poetry as something they suffered in school) so anything that spreads awareness and make it FUN is A Good Thing.
Walking Kassie a couple of days ago I decided I should write poems about the Hills, Malvern and surroundings. I could muse on the water cure; red kites’ migration along the Hills’ ridge; our ravens’ guttural conversations as they fly; the flowers, fungi, insects we usually don’t see; wonderful characters I meet locally. What sums up Malvern or the area? I then thought of the local Gazette and – inevitably – the obsession of its letters writers with Dog Poo came to mind. It’s mentioned every week (almost).
So, instead of a deeply serious, moving account of Sir Edward Elgar’s pursuit of the skylark or St Wulstan’s prayers in his cave, here’s someone’s disgusting (you have been warned!) commentary on dog poo:
Letter to the Malvern Gazette
~ Dear Sir ~
Dogging where there’s doggy dos
is really quite disgusting.
“Shit!” some poor chap ejaculates;
such interrupts one’s thrusting.
Please poop and scoop or stick and flick –
remove all traces from the grass;
it spoils a session in the hay
finding dog poo up one’s arse.
And when you’ve cleared your pooey pooch
bin it, or take it back to yours;
don’t throw those poo bags into a bush
because they may end up in ours.