My husband has a thing about our garden growing moss
“I hate moss”he shouts, his spanish accent strong
He tries to dig it up but gets the grass instead
It drives me crazy when he gets it wrong
I opened up the curtains one sunny summer’s day
To look out at the garden through the glass
All the lawn had vanished, instead it looked burnt dry
The stuff he used for moss had killed our grass
The cherry tree that used to be so pretty growing there
He cut her branches at wrong time of year
She nevermore had blossom, cost plenty to chop down
He said the roots had grown too big, and never shed a tear.
“I hate moss” his war cry as he wanders round the garden
Spraying stuff - he’s sure the moss will die
Will he burn the grass again, I worry as he sprays
He can’t read the small print nor can I.
20/01/19 JG