A bit of athletic poetry, one of few poems of mine that don't rhyme, however it’s about running and I found the rhythm of the poem quite steady, like a run. It describes the environment of a welsh runner, unlimited country and valleys, whilst probably the only being on the vale at the time.
The Runner
Sailing through the countryside, a swift being unable to stop
Gentle panting of breathlessness, attempting to be the best
Nothing is getting in the way
The lone runner, making their way through the valley
The rolling hills, the dribbling brook challenges to overcome
Nothing is getting in the way
Footsteps on tarmac, echoes through the dewy vale
Hours after hours until the animal prevails, Success is everything
Nothing is getting in the way
No comments:
Post a Comment