They’re Words and They Rhyme


I do not own laburnums bred and arched
And forced and bent and formed to formal terraces;
No ramrod rows of roses straight and starched,
Nor ancient groves coralled at England’s genesis.
Such regiments of nature seem to me
No testament to nature’s true imperatives –
Give me a leafy mess where bumbles be
With at its heart a bright, imperfect clematis.


Published by

Allan Lear

Allan is an embittered alcoholic failure, a choice of lifestyle he indulges in despite being happily married and largely sober. In the dark wee hours of the night he reads quite a few books, from which he remembers little and learns nothing.

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