With great care the roses have been pruned and tended
By many careful hands, green fingers
Inherited from centuries of farmers, Wessex folk and Irish,
Who tilled the green spaces between the Druid woods.
Over the ruined fence the wilderness grows tall,
Beautiful but deadly, evolving with the help of human malice,
That strange desire to destroy the fine work of neighbours
Because it is good - Because it pleases strangers.
I wish I could build a wall high as my house
To keep out fox and bracken, rat and mouse.
Trevor John Karsavin Potter,
August 4th. - 6th.2024.
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