MY OLEANDER’S ORRIBLE

 MY OLEANDER’S ORRIBLE (For all those gardeners)

By Peter Woodgate 

My newsletter from Meadow Croft

Was neatly typed in rhyme

I sat and read with interest

Because I had the time.

A poem was the challenge

For all those budding bards

I thought, why not, give it a try

Instead of playing cards.

But what about the subject

How do I begin?

I looked out to the garden

And wrote this on a whim.

 

My Oleander’s orrible

The buds they won’t mature

I’ve fed it everything from tea

To good old horse manure.

The Acer has got acne

My Salix too has spots

The Corkscrew Willow’s looking weird

And tied itself in knots.

The Callistemon’s bottle, it has gone

The Roses all have rust

The Clematis has a mid-life crisis

And wilts at my disgust.

The Impatiens are not busy

The Jasmine’s looking tame

The Plumbago’s got lumbago

And the Lilac’s looking lame.

The Schrizophragma can’t make up its mind

It clings on to itself

The Skimmia has an option

Should it be left on the shelf?

The Hedera gives me a headache

The Campanula’s not ringing

The Cordyline’s been eaten

And the Strelitzia’s not singing.

The Sambucus, it is very old

But it can still look nice

All it needs is TLC

And lots of good advice

 

It seems a garden is a place

That can be full of woe

So I shall up and make my way

To a “Centre” that I know.

Where all the staff are friendly

And should I need a hand

In finding anything from seeds

To topsoil, bark or sand.

I know they’ll try their utmost

Everything within their power

And may even let me know just how

To make my Oleander flower.

 

Copyright Peter Woodgate