Of course, being a poet in residence means writing some poetry myself, as well as helping other people to write.\u00a0 And I have not been idle.\u00a0 I hope that you recognise yourself, or someone you know, in this poem…<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Sunday Afternoon at Bradgate Park<\/strong><\/p>\n <\/p>\n There\u2019s a lazy sun on the surface of the Lin,<\/p>\n the oak trees look on with casual indifference.<\/p>\n Ducks are dabbling for buried treasure;<\/p>\n tails up, beaks down in the cold water.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n For the humans, there\u2019s an ice-cream kiosk,<\/p>\n the tea-rooms, with their cakes and quiches\u2026<\/p>\n One family has booked a pub lunch and they\u2019re late;<\/p>\n one\u2019s already walking off a roast and a pint.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n There are dogs of all sizes of paw and bark and nose:<\/p>\n it\u2019s Sunday afternoon in Bradgate Park.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Apart from the pines, the trees are undressed<\/p>\n by the weather and the winds, and the leaves are left<\/p>\n in fashionable colours for the season:<\/p>\n russet and amber, fawn and chestnut\u2026<\/p>\n <\/p>\n The conversation never ends: in English, Urdu,<\/p>\n between family and friends.\u00a0 Dad is telling another story,<\/p>\n and risks holding up the entire party.<\/p>\n Mother-in law is being brisk.\u00a0 Are we all here?<\/p>\n <\/p>\n The traffic is jammed: entire clans disembark from people carriers:<\/p>\n it\u2019s Sunday afternoon at Bradgate Park.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n You can hear the secret language of toddlers on bikes,<\/p>\n stabilisers, brakes and stickers,<\/p>\n a wobbly handlebar and a purple Fruit Shoot<\/p>\n steering straight into the frames of pictures<\/p>\n <\/p>\n being taken by a flock of photographers,<\/p>\n with tripods and lenses: deer in their sights<\/p>\n and exposure on their minds.\u00a0 In the gorse and the heather<\/p>\n at all times, in all weathers, right in the thick of it.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n There\u2019s wellies, inline wheels, silly heels, hiking boots, Nike and Clarks\u2026<\/p>\n Because it\u2019s Sunday afternoon at Bradgate Park.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n There\u2019s that bloke who cleans the windows,<\/p>\n a Tiger\u2019s fan whose hair is thinning.\u00a0 A cyclist<\/p>\n with lycra buttocks, spinning his wheels in<\/p>\n a muddy puddle.\u00a0 More Bradley Walsh than Bradley Wiggins.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Here\u2019s the volunteers, getting hot and sweaty, despite the month:<\/p>\n it\u2019s heavy work on the gates and fencing, lots of tea required.<\/p>\n And the rangers put out fires and keep the wildlife fit and healthy.\u00a0 And a million<\/p>\n other things you don\u2019t know about if you\u2019re not a ranger.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n And there\u2019s Lady Jane.\u00a0 She kept that dark.\u00a0 No ghost-hunters or executions:<\/p>\n not on a Sunday afternoon at Bradgate Park.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n What do you do when the sun goes down?\u00a0 Nip out the gates<\/p>\n before they\u2019re closed.\u00a0 And leave the place to the bats<\/p>\n and the badgers and the beetles living in the bark.<\/p>\n And all the rest.\u00a0 They\u2019re here all week, at Bradgate Park.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Of course, being a poet in residence means writing some poetry myself, as well as helping other people to write.\u00a0 And I have not been idle.\u00a0 I hope that you recognise yourself, or someone you know, in this poem… Sunday Afternoon at Bradgate Park There\u2019s a lazy sun on the surface of theRead more<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":515,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":"","_links_to":"","_links_to_target":""},"categories":[2,3],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-22","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-bradgate-park","category-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.lboro.ac.uk\/poetinthepark\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/22","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.lboro.ac.uk\/poetinthepark\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.lboro.ac.uk\/poetinthepark\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.lboro.ac.uk\/poetinthepark\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/515"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.lboro.ac.uk\/poetinthepark\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=22"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/blog.lboro.ac.uk\/poetinthepark\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/22\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":25,"href":"https:\/\/blog.lboro.ac.uk\/poetinthepark\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/22\/revisions\/25"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.lboro.ac.uk\/poetinthepark\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=22"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.lboro.ac.uk\/poetinthepark\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=22"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.lboro.ac.uk\/poetinthepark\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=22"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}