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By Roding’s waters
Ray Stebbing
There, the romantic wood
is haunted by faun and fairy,
strewn with nuts, carpeted
with leaves and magic mushrooms,
watered by a crystal stream
by whose fragrant winding banks
happy lovers wander.
There, Oberon and Puck
weave potent spells.
Here, in the holy ground
between knotted motorways,
resort of fox and hedgehog,
fungus, slug and snail,
last preserve of weeds -
untidy and as yet untamed -
where the poisoned river runs
confined in concrete, here
where the hazy, turgid air
is laden with leaden fumes
and the sky at sunset is seen
through a delicate tracery of pylons,
see the rubber life-preservers strewn!
Here eager spermatozoa die dissatisfied,
unfertilised ova are wasted,
in furtive, risk-free embraces
midst turds and wind-blown plastic bags.
A haven, this, for dogs, and lovers
a jewel set in a suburban paradise.
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