The Woman in Red
Obscenities are music to dandelions your foul mouthed garden is full to bursting Unlike bores to endure at wakes the first to arrive the last to leave do you recall we were happy unwhaling a mushroom quiche on a willow pattern platter and garnishing it with corrugated parsley? By this time it was whatever it is nobody slept well and we woke refreshed safe in the knowledge the weeds were cursed some days now you just serenade the brambles when the power tools have gone shopping when the weather is bad you write sestinas psychokinensis is a dandy word