Friday, 1 August 2014
Our lawn is in a state of disrepair; the grass
Lies dormant, trampled brown and dead.
For only hardy weeds can thrive out here,
And even those - our urge is to de-head.
My neighbour's patch is brilliant, emerald green.
Not for him this gasping, drought struck land.
He has the liveliest grass I've ever seen,
From founts of water hosed by liberal hand.
Not us! We wait for autumn rains to fall,
And though my fingers itch to bring back life,
I must desist, we are in Nature's thrall,
To interfere may cause some future strife.
So in this desert moment we just wait,
For autumn rains to come and satiate.
Mandy Edwards (c) 2014