1
After two weeks rained in
painting cupboards, wardrobes,
(evenings skreeked by rejoicing frogs)
we're glad, in sun,
to mulch the weathered, withered pile
of cuttings and clearage
at the edge of a lawn so
prodigiously lush, another deluge or two
would have us lost in it,
little Laurie Lees.
As it is, over its emerald depths
the turquoise dragonflies
(Go to it! and Tally-ho! I say)
are hunting mozzies,
an aerobatic duo,
3D signatures flourishing,
and in a flowering shrub,
Prussian blue-black,
Metallica-winged, a curious wasp
is necking nectar;
but, as we pull out branches
to feed the hungry maw
of the mulcher,
a blue-tongue lizard,
flickering land-fish /
tetrapod, wiggle-slithers
hastily into depths of shed.
..................
Re Laurie Lee, it's the beginning of 'Cider with Rosie' he gets lost in long grass.
2
Oh, little jumping spider,
now jest hop off my knee;
no need to abseil down my leg;
you've muscles of a flea.
You hear that shredder going?
Be glad you're not on twig
and mangled by the cutting plate
however tough your rig.
The world is full of giants:
don't catch a bird's eye bead;
but, camouflaged, on terra firm,
lurk by a towering weed.
......................
I was sitting to de-clog the mulcher / shredder, a fairly frequent need.
