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.
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Comments about this poem (EarthWhile One by Graham Fowell )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
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