The Moss

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