So the battle commenced once again,
The pyracantha needed cutting,
Preparing it for its new Spring life.
So on went the armour
Hoping to protect me from its daggers,
So I started.
A very large piece needed to come down
So my chainsaw was my weapon of choice,
Down it came,
I had won that battle with no scars
But then I had to cut it up,
Cut it up so I could get it to the tip.
And that’s when the wounds occurred
It got me in the arms,
But worst of all it had become sneaky
And its daggers came through my gloves
And go into my hands.
But eventually I had finished,
Removed my armour,
And revelled in my victory
As the pyracantha looked better,
I had won once again.