POEMS FROM THE GARDEN

sit in your garden. feel the grass in your toes. the bees buzz by. thoughts cease. from here, poetry flows

---

The moon is full
or so I'm told
for she's hiding
in her shy way
behind her dusty curtain
But hey, I can feel her
in all her fat glory
wide eyed and gleaming
in my heart
under the place
my underwear
just below the tip
of my necklace
I cough and I cry
but god I love her
god I love me
and really, I love you too
momentarily slipped away
but I'm back so soon.

---

The London Bee didn't know
that he wasn't a normal bee.
He likes oat milk in his coffee
and his flowers smell like wee.

He's nothin' like a bee from Leigh
who fancies himself a drinker o tea,
whilst sniffin' on a sweet pea.
London Bee O London Bee
Never will you ever be
a normal honey-sucker bee.

---

Dear Slug
Nothin' personal,
Never seen a body like
That before
So wet
Not in a good way
No offence

Im tryin'
Baby I said I'm tryin'
To love all these
Creatures yes I am
But I don't got no love
For no
slimy
slug