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Poems by Bob Beveridge
The Grass is always Greener


I walk along the High Street and see all the designer clothes in the shops
I look down and see my faded jeans and worn out trainers 

THE GRASS IS ALWAYS GREENER

I see the gleaming soft top sports cars speed by me
I climb into my beat up, rust spotted banger 

THE GRASS IS ALWAYS GREENER

I jog through the open fresh parkland
And return through the litter strewn alleys and streets 

THE GRASS IS ALWAYS GREENER

I drive past the fresh painted, well appointed houses with their neat gardens
I come to my scheme with its peeling windows, overgrown verges and paths 

THE GRASS IS ALWAYS GREENER

I arrive home and see the smiling grubby faces of my bairns
as they play in our overgrown garden and run to meet me 

THE GRASS IS NEVER GREENER


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