I sat in the park with a tree in my hand
And held its trunk in a grip so strong
The knuckles turned white.
The early morning raindrops, I shook
From its branches like a lettuce,
They spattered onto my shoes.
I peered at this tree with staring eyes,
Little did I see.
It was denser than it should be,
The bark was smooth, insignificant.
I mused at its unimportance as it lay in my hand
And with disgust at myself for depriving it thus
I flung it high in the air.
To my great joy it exploded in a slow-motion
Film of a magic expanding Japanese flower,
And rooted itself firmly into its rightful place
In the park.

I sat in the park and turned my head only
To see a towering rose, its menacing
Thorns pointing straight at me like
So many spears at some ancient Celtic battle.
Its huge flowers blotted out the sunlight
And its illuminated red fought off the expanse of blue
Formerly known as sky.
Greenfly crawled evilly up its stem like mobile melons
And, looking overhead I saw them hang there on the
Underside of the leaves, ready to drop and consume
me at the slightest puff of wind.
Terror screamed inside me and I shut my eyes for ease.
Slowly, bravely I opened them again and it had gone,
No, there it was, smiling up at me from its earthy
Bed with delight at having its menace
Taken from it.