Jaye Marie and Anita Dawes

It rained,so I can’t cut the grass,
I did it yesterday…
While I was ill, it grew so much
The small dog lost her way.

I’d conjured up a strimmer thing
And wrestled with the shears,
My poor lawn looks as if
Its not been manicured for years.

And then the mower wouldn’t go
With screwdriver and knife
I operated on the thinng
And forced it back to life.

It needs more than a cut or two
To bring it back in line,
So, foolishly, I thought I’d start…
Assuming I’d be fine.

I huffed and puffed to mow it down
I’d strimmed it first as well…
But by the second mower pass
You couldn’t really tell.

A mini haystack had appeared,
The compost overflowed,
The air was snowing shredded grass
The lawn looked barely mowed.

I’ll cut it once again, I thought,
Or maybe use the sickle…
But now…