A Sonnet

In the garden where I roam
Elves and Pixies make their home.
Many insects there abide
under leaves where they can hide
from those great big hunting things;
some with claws and some with wings.
The aphids are my biggest blight;
for Ladybirds a tasty bight.
My roses Aphids do devour;
they’ll eat a bush in just an hour.
Though sharp thorns grow long
on Roses where they do belong
for a Rose by any other name;
surrounded by pricks – what a shame.

Advertisements

About a foolhardy florilegium

Nullius addictus iurare in verba magistri, quo me cumque rapit tempestas, deferor hospes.
This entry was posted in Humour, Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s