Poetry

LITTLE OLD HEDGE TRIMMER ME

By 15th October 2013December 9th, 2019No Comments

I knew straight away that it wasn’t my day
When out of the house her voice shouted “Ray”
“Those thorn bushes at the end of the grass
Are now out of hand so please move your ass
Get them all tidied and don’t you dare moan
I know you were hiding in the shed all alone.”
“Yes dear” I muttered and tried to show calm
I knew that the brambles could rip off my arm
But I cut down the brambles and chopped them to bits
Put some in the garden where the cat usually sits
And when I was finished I stopped for a cig
Felt proud that the brambles were now not so big
But the voice from the kitchen boomed loud and clear
“Now that job’s finished, there’s another one dear
The hedge still wants trimming and taking away
It won’t take you long if you don’t stop to play.”
The sight of the hedge really filled me with dread
I’m over six foot and it’s over my head
It was nearly as wide as it’s tallest long branch
And the more that I looked made me wither and blanch
Precariously perched on a piece of plywood
I started to saw and I did not feel good
The trees were now swaying and if I should fall
My chance of surviving looked no good at all
Determined to finish and show her inside
I cut down the trees with panache and with pride
Finished at last and with tools put away
I reflected it hadn’t been such a bad day

Don Holmes

Author Don Holmes

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