Grass
I lay on my back all sodding year, a forgotten waist land
Hair growing long waiting for a cut, a squashed a crop circle
Just look at multiple shades of green, paint splattered nature
Parts have not been touched; you may find a new sub-species
Rain, rain, sleet, what! three days of warm sunshine
Whoopee, I got the works, lawn feed, No2 hair cut
I might have known he’s having another BBQ
Look at him, thinks he’s master-chef or Alan Titchmarsh
Dandy and his lions will soon be back on my green baize
I wish I could be with her next door, alternate green strips
Her name is Lorna. I would not turf her out of bed, I’ll tell you
‘Hey Lorna’, I shouted, ‘fancy a bit of ruff?’
Anyway my problems are over now, a young couple moved in
First I new was when I felt a sensual quivering in my blades
A 5-star machine arrived and said’ my name is Patrick Mower
© Phil Golding 18/08/2007
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