The God Of The Garden. Comical poem number 869 by Comic Angela Lansbury.

 I am the God of the Garden

I am the wise one who creates

I plant trees to shelter from breeze

Which start so small but grow too great

I'm the smug God of the Garden

But over years made two mistakes

You use spades when the earth hardens

Spend too much time on my garden

I plant bulbs for flowers in spring

I planted almost everything

All the seeds, but none of the weeds

Vibrant red apples Fall will bring

Orange roses in front garden of Hatch End. Photo by Angela Lansbury. copyright.

I plant flowers for birds and bees

I laid paths, a low wall of brick

Roses, bushes, fences and trees

Pear grow too slow, cypress too quick

The neighbours' hole helped send hedgehogs

Parrakeets preen, green hiding frog

Tennis ball, litter - dropped by fox

Birds, animals, lost cat, stray dog

First I was glad to see the fox

Next I was glad to see the cat

The lawn had puzzling big brown holes

I was not glad to glimpse the rat.

Yesterday hot, but today not

Today is cold, if truth be told

Today I am staying snug indoors

Sweeping garden mud off the floors.

-ends-

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Singing Birds But, Silenced, Cats! comical poem on birds 564 birds version 2 by Angela Lansbury

  Singing Birds comical poem by Angela Lansbury version 1

I have a box with a singing bird clock

I played it a whole day, then it was stopped

I thought it was cute, hourly birds tweeting

My spouse said it spoiled his online meeting

He said, 'Look - this annoying sound must stop!'

He silenced my birds, alas, that was that

Back in its box went my new singing clock

In our house my husband prowls like a cat

I heard a real bird, one early morning

Sound like a doorbell or a phone ringing

Like an alarm clock call joyful dawning

Or did that early bird sing code warning?

 

I listened, astonished, what could it be?

It woke me up twice, it gave me two turns

Who was it calling? Surely not for me

Early birds tap beaks, like rain, to lure worms

 

I love to hear birds tweeting, singing greeting

Calling, unseen, from the top of the block

Like a friend calling through the letterbox

But please, mr birdie, not at five o’clock!

 

One little bird has woken the others

Calling all, join my loud, cawing chorus

Each bird has fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers

Tweets and squeaks interrupt, annoy, paw us

 

I could shoot the nearest one, wave a gun

Like vine-grower's scarecrows, get arrested

My water pistol might miss and kill someone

Because my aim has, not yet, been tested

We’ve seen bin thefts tossed by a fox, and rat

Suddenly there’s silence, a prowling cat

Cute cats scratch babies, spray smells on roses

Tenants fixed repellent, I’m pleased at that.

 

I‘m sure you have heard that kittens like birds

Cats love birds, for their lunch or their dinner

If you banish cats, birds’ song will be heard

Old, bold birds sing praise, hymns, you're their saviour!

-Ends-

Comic Poem 200 Never Alone

Family of foxes cavorting in my back garden, Hatch End, Pinner, NW London, England, UK. Photo by Angela Lansbury. Copyright. 

 You can live alone

In a mobile home

You can follow the crowd

And laugh in loud

At those stuck in a coach

Or at home with a roach

You can't escape lies

Like you can't escape flies

Life can be good

In ebullient mood

As you drive through the woods

And steal your own food

You are never alone

In a static home

You can eat and grow fat

Within sight of a rat

Where the bees like to tease

And you wonder why

Spiders don't catch more flies.

And termites don't die.

That fox in my garden

Has two, big, staring eyes

I felt someone was watching

Now I know why.

They're there - and I'm here

Safe but stuck in my home!

I am technically all alone

Yet surrounded by eyes, never alone.

-ends-

Copyright Angela Lansbury 2023 22 July. 

My draft of this poem had laugh out loud as the ending to the first verse. I though that was a cliche, too predictable and commonplace. then I changed it to laugh in loud.