Weeds and Butterflies.

My two small gardens are full of butterflies,
I have let the weeds grow
To give them a world to thrive in,
Two miniature jungles my neighbours nag me
                                                               to tidy,
Especially the postman who gets tangled in my
                                                          Hydrangea
Whenever he delivers parcels this time of year.
Sorry postman, my gardens are made for flowers,
For weeds and bees and butterflies,
Not for the likes and dislikes of busy humans
Keeping to man made schedules the natural world
                                                                   disdains.
Insects will probably out live the human species,
As will the plants most people find distasteful,
But I must admit, I have planted some ornamental
                                                                        roses,
To add a semblance of order
To my two wild jungles, my miniature nature reserves.
When I pack my bags and move to another country -
To Italy or Mexico or France -
I expect the new occupants of this corner house
Will pour grey concrete over both my gardens
To park their cars or build a glass extension,
But then most people are blind to small wild things;
What is fine in Nature books is not fine in their
                                                                 back yards.


Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
July 20th. 2020.
Typed while listening to the re-broadcast of the first performance of The Protecting Veil.