There is a demanding piece of topiary in the farmhouse garden that is supposed to be a man on a donkey wearing a Russian-type fur hat! It is a nightmare to clip. One wrong thrust with the shears, and six generations of careful grooming (and slipshod un-artistic clipping by the seventh – me!), goes down the pan! I fear it is beginning to look like a large Siberian riding Mickey Mouse (however it is open to artistic interpretation)…
The donkey goes:
The shears go:
Clip Clip – Damn!”
It’s topiary time in the garden,
Time for a pre-winter trim,
I’m being careful with the big ears,
Not hacking away on a whim!
Why has the man a fur hat?
Was it so cold years ago?
It must have been different to nowadays,
That’s Global Warming for you don’t you know!
I clip and stand back from my subject,
The ears are looking quite strange,
One wrong clip and they’ll just be compost,
Looks like a spot of the mange!
I feel many eyes a-watching,
They’ve come from the churchyard to see,
Grand-dad is leaning on his crutches,
Laughing to bust over me!
My mother, Lord bless her, is frowning,
She wants to grab hold of the shears,
Her ghostly hands just run through them,
Whoops! There goes a piece of the ears!
© Baldock Bard 2013
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for the last time until April 26th 2014
When we’ll reopen for our Twenty-second season!!
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