MEANDERING ON DOWN STREAM
by Trev Teasdel (Inspired by some of Ann Wainwright's Riverside Photos)
Walking along the streams of consciousness, through buttressed leaves in kick crumble rouge, past sloping off boats tugging at their moorings, past gates to huge houses, slipways slipping into the Thames to feed u bend swans fresh baked breadlets, past bent backed hedges with tangle-hair dreams and lean over fences and trees that reach up to the giant's nest and the blow-bubble clouds with tingle-drop raindrops that fall on caught out blouses and coffured hair-scapes, while dogs chase the illusions of rabbits that spill from a cast off top hat jammed in the hedgerow awaiting the applause of a Drury Lane matinee, while taxies cut corners to pick up cut-out commuters from their brief-cased compartments and deliver them quickly to lap-top lovers with micro-soft thighs and drop-down menus before evening news and dinner for two on a punt down near Windsor while couples tell lies that neither believes as a matter of ritual and just to fill in time till the call of the duvet and feather down pillows in the lovertime night with it's dreams of long winding rivers with trees that look like people and ducks that talk Norman and swans that sell cakes to passerby joggers in trainers and leggings that bounce on the leaves where rabbits lure dogs with the illusion of food and magicians lose hats in a spell under the stars and back by the streams where conciousness rushes before walking by the banks of the Thames flowing home to it's mansion of the sea with it's fish-maid servants and butler whales and ships that just seem to pass in the night..
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