At Westonbirt Arboretum

The “could-be-anywhere-ness”,

Organised chaos, 

The well-maintained mess

Of leaves intertwined with leaves intertwined with leaves.

Civilised picnic, hide and seek,

Superfluous trees;

A hundred different shades of green,

And yellow,

And red. 

Bimbling paths and dappled tracks,

Shadey spots,

Sunny traps. 

Take the footbridge ad-Libitum,

The handsome, timeless arboretum.

Hay Fever

Help me, someone! Please, oh please!
I'm getting so sick of my sneeze!
I just don't know what to do!
I go to speak than ... AITSCHOO!

My nose is running, my eyes are sore,
I sniff and sniffle then sniff some more!
I love the sun but am trapped indoors,
Lest I inhale those nasty spores!

I've tried eating honey, but what a mess;
I got it all over my new summer dress!
Putting Nettles in tea I have also tried;
But they stung so much I nearly cried!

All I've been left with is honey galore,
And stinging nettles upon my floor,
A depleting supply of tissues and such,
I just can not cope! This is all too much!

I'm really angry with bloody rhinitis,
I wish I just had some cureable virus!
So I wish you a summer to remember;
I'll venture outside come December