Life in the yard.... at second-hand

A gardening enthusiast with just a splendid plan

A courtyard with a water feature, bordering

Flowering shrubs

A tree; familiarity; a big, big statement

Outspread he sees it all; incumbent nurseries

Seedlings and peas in rows, stood-standard celeries.

Propounding, expounding, with unrepressed facility

Born in a head

Conceived gestated on a great spring bed

Arbours' amours, site plans for hands - deliberated

Things thought unfold him often with remote alacrity

The mind's eye beholding its cherished considered counsels

The colours in their clusters,

The blustery cherries swinging in his germinal garden

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Seemings: the TV's on; and all is glistering seeming

This groove has social hold

With a pot of tea and a biscuit hold, weak, palliative and bland

Breathtakingly enforced estoppel; doings moving into pasture

A queue is forming, westering on swan feather cushions

A bunch of leaning lilacs lolled attentive

…............................................................

The labial radio also likes to take a person playing

In war zones tossing bones to make one's bread with;

Strows woe's uncurtained humdrum thought excursions

Polyphonies of wars the mortal complement

To breakfast's eggs and bacon, or to model

Sunday roasts

Eating irons beat tattoo on polished heartwood tables

A hullabaloo in Gaza barely leaves an after-taste

Showers of misshaped shrapnel badly-sorted delectate

Pavlovian dinner parties

God's garden gone to seed and run into a waste of weed

Back-bending, breaking action, gone fordone; the land lapped, unimpassioned,

All that's averred now referred by virtual exposition

The adjustments to the couch?

No urge to change position.

World, world, within a squall,

We pictures sit here looking somehow to be shriven