The garden plum tree
Is provocatively
starting to dress
Its long slim
smooth erotic limbs
With white blossoms.
So, soon it
will all kick off again,
Hormones, pheromones,
bird song,
Lots of colourful
visual, oral and olfactory action ‘
Frogspawn, nectar,
courting displays.
plenty of thrusting, budding and flowering.
I'll peer out
of my kitchen window,
Like a pervert,
Using my
binoculars
To zoom in
on the best bits;
But sooner
or later I’ll have to go out,
With secateurs
and shears and a rake,
To tidy it
all up,
Because we
can't have
This kind of
thing going on,
Unregulated
and unrestrained.
After all this
is suburbia.
