Sunday, 27 September 2015

Don't fence me in

My sweet wife nudged me
After all these years
The city called
No, ordered I move
To the office in town
We had to shift
Or lose my job

Sweet wife had visions
Apartment with views
Balcony for tea
And all shining new
Our new luxury pad
Singing praises
Her poem of joy

I’d been a city child
Raised in a brick flat
My youth’s hell
Communal balcony
Entrance for all
Dirty windows
And constant noise

Escape to the country                    
Dancing at village hall                               
Kids riding horses 
My wife now smiles
This was now our plan
Don't fence me in
With city's railings       

Image found at                 


  1. Communal hallways are a hell no matter how many times they sluice off the stains and repaint it fences external or otherwise is a good aspiration - and that little girl's face is a real tonic :)

  2. Hmm, life didn't turn out the way this speaker intended, which, unfortunately, is often the case for most of us.

    Seeking Sugar

  3. Can't imagine living away from a buzzing city...but in the end people matter more than places I suppose.

  4. There are tradeoffs / advantages in both city and country living. Hopefully, wherever one settles one is happy with the choice.

  5. Don't get me wrong. I love the city and all its nooks to duck into and experience. But give me some space. I don't like living on top of each other for very long.

  6. I was a city dweller most of my life, but you'd never get me back there now, except for brief visits. I like my clean air, beautiful scenery, and far less traffic.

  7. happiness is main be it in a country or a city...the poem reminds me of Keats' "To One Who Has Been Long in City pent"....

  8. The city can be both the horrors of communal sharing and the joy of balcony bliss.. I think the country might be a safer bet... as long as there is good transport to town, for music and fun

  9. I so long for this, as well. Well done.

  10. The concrete jungle so they say! And it is a lot more restrictive than a freer country life!


  11. "Her poem of joy." I love that line. I remember when I was a young married and wanted to live in the city, which we did for a time. Only a few years later, I discovered I was a wilderness girl, but it took many more years to get there. I enjoyed this poem, Robin.Glad you got back to the country.

  12. Yeah - know that feeling. Give me the country air, and open skies.

  13. lovely.. the city can make you feel trapped.

  14. I was a city girl, then country, then city, again. I enjoy both because I make it good wherever I am but....I wouldn't trade my quiet country air mornings alone for all the trendy spaces in town! Good you are back in the country. Spencer is Kanzensakura

  15. the city can be loud, crowded, and hurried. whereas the country life is quiet, laidback, and commodating. i've had the experience...sighs.

  16. The life of the city can at times make one feel fenced in. Beautifully executed!

  17. Oh I have been there....pull up stakes and plant your roots somewhere else...sometimes a scary proposition, but a wonderful adventure more times than not. I could never be fenced in by a city...I would be the country!

  18. I would rather live where there is room to breathe and commute into the city.

  19. I grew up in New York City. I can definitely relate to your poem.

  20. when presented with these two options one must close one's eyes then open them and accept where you are. flowers can grow in pots on windowsills but horses cannot trot in concrete urban streets with cars.

    tough option

  21. Got o find that smile in escaping or one sweet spouse and set of children might never know what they are missing--including the rat race of affording the urban setting. A fine triptych of a poem.

  22. choose the wife's smile to be a happy man

    tea and ixoras

    much love...

  23. I can sympathize with this. Been in all environs.
    I like being on the edge of suburbia...near a smaller city.
    Went in to NYC for an overnight. And was reminded of why I enjoy my home.

    Cheers, Jules