Balmadies: Where Constable meets Monet
Here, the hill is green not tarmac.
Old stones are parked not cars. Here,
the beech and cherry whisper yes, yes,
no streetlight buzz. Here, a quiet young fox,
and no barking dog. Here, turquoise damsels
not blue bottles. Here, it's deer and buzzard
that dance, not plastic bags and empty cans.
Owls, bats and no drunken brawls. Here,
among the children's den and new bower,
an abandoned old cart, a lily pond in a field.
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