A Tricolour of Old McDonald

Sits in pasture of grasses green

Where bleaching drawers 

flap white and clean, and down

Below, a blooming undulation 

of dandelion and hawkweed  - 

Yellow tongues of fire and gold. 


One harmless infamous old farmer 

Proceeds to give yer wan,

tasty artless turned-up-start

Visitor,  to his corrugated shed,

The full monty garden tour 

where all is told  and all made new. 

Says he to her, in a slow low tone:


 Please realise how much

 Such vegetables do root, 

dig for you and me 

Unsentimentally

 You see here, It eyes us up, 

this new world tattie

Recently shifted, seismically 

Shoots straight  up, 

From hip, a pea,

bullseye 3 months go by  

readymeal in a jiffy -

Just fork in muck 

with welly n wait.

Unlike other newcomers 

reluctant to fare here: 

chillis turn sickly 

Tucked  in folds between  hills,

Tenuous tomatoes 

Chutneybrown bound,

 Golden quinoa spills mildewed

straight down, seed 

Feed, voles into owls.

But elsewhere on ground,

Crisp kale cracking a first -

now we’re talking a nutrition burst!

Rhubarb robust, forced to disco reel 

to chink of light in spandex pink - a

Sweet savoury deal. 

Then Inadvertently 

The odd Spade fatality:

Halved Earth worm -

But then worse 

To vertebrate sensibility-

A soft green frog ! 

heart jumps, I cry,  momentarily 

Such rough cruelty 

for fellow  slow starter 

deep in slumber a

Sandwich of grey sodden turf

Of tough glacial tilth 

Requiring brute force 

Below velvet veneer 

of humousy topping

laced last year 

mulch compost n chopping-

On the rocks - 

whether many or few, 

abundance or lack - 

tracing the speed 

of an old river track,

a long way back, 

That climate of change , 

Solid  to melted, a

Deposition neatly 

expressed in: my

Digometer foot n

sweated forehead.

Pink fur apples n cavalo Nero

Are northern luxuries of 

least pain to grow here.

medley of Carrots 

once multi-colour 

Became patriotic 

propaganda, 

Rendered into a

deep shade of yellow

King William of Orange 

Given Dutch courage 

to conquer, vegetable gain,

A protest to pope, 

But they end up friends 

And common enemy France-

Realpolitik at a glance -

Seen in this tap root of  vitamin

fine romance!



She engages but

ducks his flowery descriptions

 Plucks up her confidence so

Somewhat thoughtless, impatient

 retorts:


But Amn’t I the nice 

But most depraved one

Teased for not being 

seen as  racing green  

in a jet set crew. 

But it will be proved 

i ‘ve been mocked 

In my big chin ruff, 

Beneath  the powdered wig, 

Cavaliering . 

The impact of my former carbon

 hoof print has been vast!

But wait  till you hop onboard 

Great CO2 offset capturing craft,

Sail Sustainably full mast

self-appointed  mean Machine,

An ecoheroqueen, 

By Billy- Jo - I am, 

Keen-2-be seen

 in top compan-ee-i-o 

On every man’s touch

sillycon couch  screen

I am the one n only, 

Bill-  I  - am

returning to haunt you 

from yon sixteen hundreds

admonish steer you off your

 staple daily porridge,

And I’ll keep on headline grabbing till  

The PR pheasant PluckeR comes

merchandising and conniving 

Smoking mirrors, Vacant vain

Flaunting my stallion style 

of shiny glossy mane, so

Mark my words, you will 

pay for any eyesight 

deficiency-i-io

by gad you shall be mad 

take sides, be uncouth, 

Or you will have it, 

you organic soiled old carrot, so

Believe in my eternal youth -

Though I am all of 39!



But you listen up, sister,

Returns big old McYD, 

We all dislike each being  

Anything but free 

and incapabl-i-o

Of keeping mum n tilling soil

N cutting down on oil

In all its complicated guises

engulfed in contrafoil

What sin to dilly dally 

Un gaspillage, un temps perdu 

All distraction from Impending 

Disaster-i-o, ecollapse -i-o

providing yawning 

inconsequentials

Drinking up your

Mediocre high-low-brow 

Showee-o of you-i-o

And as the lights do go out-i-o

of what remaining biodiversity-i-o

Held tightly by their throats-i-o

Those fine farms do have 

home grown animosities,

jealousies, even murder,

Insecticides give no apologies

To former fertile fields  

Nor to lost moths nor faded flowers -

They are the lovers 

spurned, ignored and rotted

Yes, to these we 

Sure do by Jove each

Ee-i-ee -i-owe 

them

Our own fed up, bored

Device addicted

life-ee-i-ee-oooo!





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