The local allotments

Easy gardening, plant a tree

right at the edge of your allotment.

It may not leave the pathway free

but for some that's not so urgent.

Crazy gardening, plant a tree.

Little work to get some fruit

but years to wait and will you be

the tenant still when harvests suit?

Lazy gardening, plant a tree.

Your bank account won't be tortured.

But do we really want to see

the allotments become an orchard?

Scientists aren't the only ones discover what is true;
lots of people find out things that no-one ever knew.
Teenagers for instance are very pleased to vex
their parents with discoveries of alcohol and sex.

"I love you" he said quite out of the blue.
Stunned I replied "And I love you"
For men of my age with thinning grey hair
such declarations of love are rare
and jewels to treasure, hopefully true
at innocent three "And Grandma too"

Gender Identity

While weeding a border, I dug up a worm
and as a polite sort of bloke
not wanting to seem rude ignoring it
but not pally enough for a joke,
said "I don't want to hurt you, Mr. Worm"
and gave it a friendly poke.

But it wriggled with what seemed embarrassment -
did I say something not right?
I'd got myself in a predicament
by trying to be polite
not knowing what word is pertinent
to address an hermaphrodite.

Which Roman emperor inaugurated
that almost universal human gesture ?
(Perhaps to keep the volatile crowd placated
with their favourite defeated lest their
anger led to riots on the street)

His name would be remembered ever after
more fittingly than fiddling while Rome burned
or making his horse a senator with laughter
at dull conventionality so spurned
or any other weird imperial feats.

He never could have thought it credible
that such a simple gesture now outlives
his mighty empire and makes possible
communication across language boundaries
with a Thumbs Up to the stranger that we meet.

I listen to the engine running;
its idling speed is smooth and strong.
While top performance isn't stunning,
it does keep pottering along.

The air intake is quite efficient,
not spoiled by smoke pollution yet;
the fuel filter is sufficient
to keep all vital feed lines wet.

The chassis starts to feel its age though;
the bodywork shows signs of wear;
the starter motor won't engage so
the engine needs especial care.

For if it stops, despite how clever
all the intelligent functions are,
they don't continue on forever -
it's me that dies and not my car.

The Well of Loneliness

We've certainly progessed some way

to understanding 'inverts'

since twenties cowardly disapproval

labelled them as perverts.

For what was there to censure but

her 'thespian' male attire

which foolishly served to advertise

her lesbian desire ?

Unselfish love eschewed the curse

of masculine brutality

and woman-ness did not indulge

in phallus promiscuity.

So though the book's a bit too long

without a lot of loneliness,

her writing it may well have helped

some later people's happiness.