Number 46, Barefoot.

I think this is day 55 of the challenge, and with this being number 46, I am nine behind.  A manageable deficit I think, but not to become complacent I must try to catch up.  I downloaded Apple i-books last night on the suggestion of my friend William, and plan to publish a rudimentary first edition of The Incomplete Works of Steph'nonsense soon.  I am leaning towards this as my pen name, and will add sophistication to it if and when I develop any.   Meanwhile I am looking forward to seeing something in the Midhurst & Petworth Observer in the next week or two.  I am hoping this will lead to a few followers. 


Barefoot.

Who doesn’t love a mystery?
Something lost in history,
Or something in our lives today,
No explanation we can say.

There’s something I don’t understand;
I see it up and down the land,
Something that daily puzzles me,
I just don’t know how it can be.

Every day I drive a van;
Of litter I am not a fan,
But one thing casually thrown out,
Is what I am talking about.

Who is it suddenly can lose,
Either, or a pair of shoes?
Never trousers or a hat,
Shoes or boots and only that.

I see them all along the side,
Of every road where they’ve been shied.
Some old, though some still in their prime,
Are abandoned every time.

I sometimes throw my old shoes out,
Like you or anyone no doubt,
But someone seems to wait, till they
Are in their cars, well on their way.

Then at a moment they think right,
And maybe in the dead of night,
They haul out normally just one,
Just to bewilder everyone.

You’ll see a trainer, then a welly,
Some look new, others smelly.
Today I saw a black dress shoe;
Who could have lost it, was it you?

Next time you go somewhere by car,
You do not have to go that far;
See if what I say is true,
Play the game of ‘count the shoe’!

Perhaps some people get so pissed,
That walking home they have not missed
A shoe that fell off on the way,
But surely not the motorway?

For one thing that I seem to see,
Is that the vast majority,
Are not on single rights of way,
But on a dual carriageway.

So the thing I want to know,
Is not that people like to throw,
The things away they do not use,
But why of all the things; just shoes?

© Stephen Saunders

To book Steph'nonsense for a rhyming evening:
bowleyfarm@gmail.com or 01428 741212

Agent / publisher wanted.