Neighborhoods

Oft’ times I stroll about meadows green
Or deep into the stately wood,
But more than not these measured treks
Traverse the local neighborhood.
 
I love a morning, crisp and clean,
Where mindfulness is understood,
But I avoid the burrs and ticks
If I simply stroll the neighborhood.
 
All these mirrored cookie-cutter houses
Built so long ago
Morphed by dwellers, claw and nail,
To suit their tastes and temperament.
 
At times, it can be better
Than a moving picture show,
And here am I to soak up
Every nuance, every element.
 
A chain-link-split-rail-picket fence
To hide-divide each precious patch.
Goblins, sprites and garden gnomes,
Sons and fathers playing catch.
 
This house, this lawn neat and tidy,
That one an ungodly mess.
Some with roses full in bloom,
Others fully flowerless.
 
Amazing all the sights you see,
A medley of the grim and good,
A blending of humanity exists
In every neighborhood.
 
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/ Amazon Author's Page: http://www.amazon.com/Dennis-S-Martin/e/B004SXY4LG/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1394055582&sr=1-2-ent