We used to have a gardener
Who called once a week and moved the lawn
And trimmed rose trees to sensible heights
My machete's an umbrella, I feel prickled and forlorn
A garden is a lovely place
But we've no milk nor honey
Useless trees attract dogs, wasps, bees
Our annual gardener wants too much money
Our garden's full of wild life
Rats, cats, snakes, foxes,birds and bees
Welcome to squirrels - everyone
Except for you and me
But never mind 'cos love is blind
Our pot-holed lawn looks dappled
Only a poet could love a place
Where every worm has an apple.
That broken fence will cost a few pence
Rats feasted on my car engine
Although we spared no expense
The rat poison hasn't yet had a win
A mouse shows guests around our house
The ivy is strangling the gutter
The worms know they will be in for a treat
When we are soon six foot under.
How lucky we are
To have a garden and a house
We have it all, six dead neighbours,
Two sleepy neighbours' cats and an athletic mouse.
-ends-
I meant the cats are sleepy, contrasting with the athletic mouse evading the useless cats. The fox didn't catch the rats. But the phrase
'sleepy neighbours' cats' was unintentionally ambiguous. The sleepy neighbours, suggests they have wandering cats and straying dogs.
The large hole was made by the vixen, we think.
The mouse was not in this house, but my late uncle's. Dead in the breadbin. The mouse. Not my uncle.
We have had six neighbours die in the last decade, at intervals. Two elderly couples. Plus one man. One woman. Not appriate to discuss more here in the footnote to a comic poem. I am hoping to live to 100 you will have a few more comic poems to read.
My other lighthearted but slightly cynical, entertaining, blogs include travewithangelalansbury.blogspot.coml and dressofthedayangela.blogspot.com
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