Ruined Peace

Peaceful Place

Gorse blossom yellows in the afternoon sun,
Dust storm spirals turn and run.
Tired walkers take their fill,
As heat haze shrouds the distant hill.

Bird song, into silence hushes,
As traffic, past the castle rushes.
Then screaming two stroke engine noise,
Heralds racing biker boys.

The car park fills with smoke and dust,
Their engines revving fit to bust.
Then next, a throbbing in my head,
A helicopter overhead.

A host of cars descend en-masse,
They taint the air with exhaust gas.
This peaceful spot, they've come to see,
But peace is just a memory.

What peace there was they've just destroyed,
They leave dejected and annoyed.
But peace returns as of they go,
Just what they missed they'll never know.

IAN WOOLGER....