It's not safe
in my garden;
in the garden of England
Kent.
Eden Valley, Maidstone,
Tonbridge Wells,
home to cricket,
hop houses,
orchards
and my house;
where my dog
roamed
the backyard,
boxed in by Laurel,
privet, roses
and apple trees.
But they came.
To threaten
and terrorize;
a modern scourge.
Ransomed,
exchanged
late at night ;
a crime
no one dare speak
aloud;
but I dare now:
Dog-nappers
everywhere -
Bad fruit in the garden -
may you wither on the limb
and rot in Eden.
Susan Jones
Blog Archive
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2014
(338)
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May
(30)
- The Watchers - Susan Jones
- The Breaking Waves - Marianna Pliakou
- Boxer - John E Blaise
- My Little Bird - Diane Scantlebury
- Orchestra of Rain - Fred Williamson
- Face-It - Lester Queripel
- Times A-Changing (Ode to Bob Dylan) - Ian Duquemin
- Dread Squabble, Reed Warble, Creed Scrawled - Chri...
- Granny - Ros Willard
- Beach Braves at Port Soif - Jean Jorgensen
- St Peter Port Promenade - Joan Willard
- Bad fruit in Eden - Susan Jones
- Nostalgia Is Not Always To Be Trusted - Marianna P...
- I Was A Rasta - Chris Hudson
- The Writer in Me - Ian Duquemin
- You Are A Rock - John E Blaise
- Thursdays - Ros Willard
- Lament - Jean Jorgensen
- Anger Revolves The Heart T’entrap - Chris Hudson
- “I’m Coco” - Joan Willard
- The Swan, The Bluebottle And The Flying Horse - Su...
- I Was - Ros Willard
- Black Suede Dreams - Jean Jorgensen
- When God Drops His Crumbs - Chris Hudson
- A Caution - Diane Scantlebury
- Unmistakably Quink - Susan Jones
- New Day (For Uncle Peter With Love. R.I.P) - Ian D...
- Evidently Donkey Town - Chris Hudson
- Bright Star - Diane Scantlebury
- Clouds of Time - Susan Jones
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▼
May
(30)