When we first moved in you were

a wild thing – 1984 or thereabouts.

Long grass sprouted in all of your nooks,

Mare’s Tail waved defiantly from

flower beds.  But there were treasures

concealed about you – a wild iris poking

up among the dandelions, a huge

rhododendron bush with flowers

the same colour as blood, concealed

within the overgrowth.

Taming you was Mum’s work – her joy. 

A full summer was spent combing back

your tresses until you looked a

little more civilised.  My favourite

part of you was the cherry blossom

tree.  Every year its trailing branches

filled with delicate pink.  I could sit

underneath them and everything

would just be better. 

When the new owners move in I

fear you’ll finally be subdued –

your tendrils chopped and thorns

removed.  There’ll be a patio where

once there was a wilderness.

There might even be

a hot-tub.

I hope you find a way to sneak

in around the edges – and that

they will love your untameable

beauty like we did.