Graham Fowell


EarthWhile One


My garden's creeping up on me
And tapping at my door,
I haven't had a look at it
For Ooooh six weeks or more.
It's OK in the winter time,
It just sits there dark and quiet,
But around the May Bank Holiday,
There's going to be a riot.

The privet hedge starts stepping out,
The lawn makes a run for it
In search of happy wilderness,
While in my chair I sit.
I'm supposed to "Up-and-at-‘em"
With secateur and shear,
But the flora only wants to LIVE
And to that I say ‘Hear Hear'.

It doesn't know it's greenery
As it climbs toward the sun;
Who am I to stop it,
It's only having fun.

Submitted: Monday, July 14, 2014
Edited: Monday, July 14, 2014

Topic of this poem: gardening


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