What do you expect

What do you expect

From a window box

The geraniums are doing well

Perched on the wall

Head high

People walk by

Slinking through the undergrowth

Lions and tigers

Little old ladies in man-made fibres

Sweating their lives away

Dragging groceries

In canvas trolleys

Dreaming of strollers

Hoping for another baby

To knit for

There are animals rutting

In the garden

Dinosaurs in the kitchen

Nothing is what it is expected to be

Perhaps it is radiation

From phone towers

They are everywhere

Black crows

Get bigger every day

Soon, they will be talking.

Daphne du Maurier

Was a fortune teller

Handmaids tell tales

But not here

Where democracy

Still exists

A landscape

Governed by geraniums

Populated by flowering pansies

Violas are big violins

They are in the conservatory

Where they have more

Elbow room

Than squashed together in a box.