I didn't recognise the true leaves of the seedlings

growing in the greenhouse in a tray.

And since I mixed some mole earth with bought compost

it's possible those thriving plantlets may

be something from the meadow where the moles dig.

How can I tell?  But now a single touch settles

the matter immediately.  Stinging nettles !

Tweets 3

I have to be content with the beauty of a flower

now too old for the beauty of a woman.

It's less a matter of someone to love

than someone to be loved by.

Too hot? Too cold? Too wet? Too dry?

I never know the reason why

my healthy plants just die.

ED? No need for a remedy.

It doesn't make you any less human.

Just enjoy more loving cuddles.

Signed : any not so young woman.

FLAVOUR OF THE MONTH - COTONEASTER

Certainly not for you or me

but wonderful if you're a bee.

No social distancing for these

dozens of foraging bees.

My hair kept growing through all the lockdowns

so now I've flowing lengthy locks down.

Mondegreen

---------------

The title of a film misheard

and shocked by the taboo sexual word

the thought expressed still rang true then:

there is 'no cunt free for old men'.

Thank goodness for lawnmowers, growing grass.

Something to do to make time pass.

I know there's a science explanation

about the colour of the sky

and feel it would be presumptuous

of me to question why

it has to be so complicated.

I give the scientists their due

but seeing as it's Some-one's carpet,

I just think God likes blue.

Wildlife incident

Two pigeons perched on the garden fence

confrontational face to face

jabbing each other with their beaks.

I assumed they were fighting for dominance

control perhaps of the garden space.

It looked quite painful on their cheeks.

But then one mounted on the other !

Oh, I see. Their pecking was necking.

Because I'm dead I have no rights but one

yet he that murdered me lives on

and, though in prison, still enjoys so much

of what life has to offer such

as comradeship and love of family

while my folk never will see me

again. They scan a void where howls of loss

reverberate but cannot cross.

Adaptable as people are, in time

his life will mould anew, his crime

not punished by the hell of galley slaves

now human rights cede much he craves

like decent food, gym, music books, TV -

none of which things can comfort me.

Absent, I am forgotten, my one right 

ignored while gradually his plight

gains sympathy for his release. Throughout

imprisonment he has no doubt

he will be free at last. My kin and I

have no such hope. He made me die

and yet enjoys some life which is not fair.

"Forgive" they say, which only means don't care.

I in eternity cannot forgive.

Common fairness says he shall not live.

Because I'm dead I have no rights but one

which is that execution must be done.

Quote unquote

"So love is nothing then?" she asked, sweet child.

"Not everywhere" he said "but yes with us"

"But why?" persisting, "That's not sensible"

"I don't know why" he answered. Then he smiled.

"The world's not sensible. You'll find out soon enough"

"But why accept something non-sensical?"

"It's nothing much" he joked, "Don't get so wild.

That love means nothing doesn't need such fuss.

You can't blame me. I'm not responsible"

He felt himself becoming somewhat riled.

"Ask some-one who knows tennis more than me"

Hello Beautiful.

You look wonderful this morning.

Such a radiant face.

Although your skirt is past its best.

Do you need a drink?

Though it comes with a warning.

This is your new home,

the perfect place to rest,

my gorgeous Phalaenopsis.