The lawn will require attention,
Though a ‘lawn’ it has not really been…
It is more an uneven and ragged expanse
Alternating from muddy to green.
There are holes in which moles or fieldmices
Or voles may have made their abode,
There are hedgehogs and crickets,
Not flowers and pickets,
And even a resident toad.
I’m not stuck for manure,
‘Cause there are no fewer
Than dozens of cows in the field.
So I might plant some roses
To relieve our noses …
And see what the neighbours can yield.
I could dig the lot up and seed it,
But the small dog likes playing outside
And already bounds onto the sofa
Where she waits for the mud to have dried.
But even if I should re-sow it,
And fill all the holes in with muck,
It’s way too uneven to mow it,
And even the…
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