Poem 133 – In Hope of Wild Flowers

So No Mow May slipped into June
Kneehigh the grasses swayed
And under summer’s sun turned brown
Before I’d turned a blade
I’d hoped for some exotic meadow
An array of blooms
Instead a field of hay fever
And stinging nettles grew
So finally I grabbed the mower
To try and tame this beast
But left it growing at the back
And planted some wild seeds

I’ve always fancied a wild flower meadow and a garden that’s more attractive to wildlife. Alas, it turns out that laziness doesn’t create it…

© Ben Quant 2022

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