Floating Arums
Walking along the canal,
I see the duckweed is in bloom –
Bank-to-bank, a carpet
For the mallards’ living room.
The moorhens leave a wake of clear
That slowly zips together,
The swans have clumps upon their prows,
And flecks on ev’ry feather.
Rivers are no good, of course,
They hurry up their flow –
But out on the canal,
It teaches how to take it slow.
The coots are scooping mouthfuls,
And the geese are busy working –
But beneath the green and stillness,
I can sense there’s something lurking…
Rhyming Couplets 