The crazy paving was sectioned
The weeds were stoned on weed
The roses were at war again
I had to intercede
But my good intent was thwarted
When I was ambushed by a bush
That tied me up in gardening twine
Cut to length by a bush dwelling thrush
I was thrown on to the compost
And left in peace to rot
On my green and pleasant
Local parish council allotted plot
And as I began to putrefy
And slowly decompose
I was informed of my gardening crime
By a war injured red rose
I was lucky I wasn’t dead headed
I lacked horticultural sense
Made obviously obvious
When mother nature blew down my fence
What the plants saw made them angry
It upset their gentle demeanour
As the gale forced flattened fence revealed
My neighbours’ grass was greener