poetic scribble by Bob Axell 2007


A bush stands by the roadside
Grand green coated by dust so grey
It's stayed there through the darknest night
And through the brightest day

When the world is swept in by rain
It regains it's longlost shine
And as the years go by
It's branches intertwine

By the fence that grows beside it
Full of holes and rust
Trains roll endlessly by
Showering them with dust

But they still perceive
And grow new fearful leaves
They will remain for centuries
Until the darkest of eves . . .