my rooms
my places, my hideaway
with the mental turmoil
that we all swim in –

the road runs low
and age,
brings a different glow

so temptation –
gave you the rod and the line
life with its shafts of light
provides us with all the time

tell a joke –
falling from pursed lips
what prize –
for your horticultural insanity
your potting shed mentality

you be arrogant
and you think
you live apart –
from the rest of us

life does –
it throws spanners into the works
knives at your board
it whips up a storm
and then plots a different course