I had stayed up late one night watching a documentary on ‘swarms’. You know locusts, bees and other such insects that like to live in such large numbers at such close proximity. The next morning I woke up with these words running through my mind, “I was walking alone in the park one day …” and I grabbed a notebook to jot them down. I continued to building up this poem over a couple of months and as I wrote it, I wondered if that documentary had any influence on what I was writing. Sometimes I thought it might, but at others times I wasn’t so sure. I don’t want to spoil it by telling what it’s all about, but I do hope that you enjoy reading it.
A STROLL IN THE PARK
I was strolling alone in the park one day
Along a beautiful, bright and brisky way
When I stopped to rest by an old pine tree
And there it was hanging high and free
I looked up to investigate, what could it be?
It was brown and round like a ball you see
Yet long and thick and heavy and full.
Swaying gently it begged me silently to pull
To free it from the tree was really not my choice
But it beseeched me and pleaded in a soft humming voice
Its cries grew louder and more urgent the longer I stared
Could I touch it with my hand? I wondered if I dared
It looked perfect hanging there almost ready to burst
I plucked up my courage, it felt strange at first
The rough skin was soft, I was surprised to find
Not as I expected, not what I had in mind
I pulled and I tugged but it stayed put on the tree
I began to wonder if it really wanted to be free
Then with one last effort using both hands to pry
I gave it all I had this was my very last try
I fell back on my bottom it was free at last
What a triumph, I had done it! But then it burst
I was amazed, disappointed after all I had done
But there was no time to brood, I had to get up and run
I was surrounded by humming and buzzing you see
The mystery revealed was there for all to see
I’m in trouble, I thought scrambling to my feet, I ran
Find a pool, a pond, or even a watering-can
What an adventure, what a day, I was soaked to the skin
“They’ve gone, I’m safe,” I said with a smug foolish grin
A narrow escape, from the big buzzing mass
And onto the next adventure with great poise and class
©2007 Christina Sempebwa
