I’ve considered planting ‘Taters
On the kitchen floor
Since my missus left me
I don’t mop up no more

My garden is a jungle
With wildlife it’s replete
More feral cats than Whipsnade
More dangers than Longleat

The branches ever moving
Even when there is no breeze
I’m afraid to venture closer -
There’s something swinging in the trees

All in all disaster
Is knocking at my door
Time to move my backside
And clean that blasted floor