Ambrose Lyons 2015
A bearded boy ploughed through the grass
He could not hear, nor could he pass
The gate had spoken,
But the trees were open
“La di ho, Fetro!”
So the fig boy ploughed, on and on
With beard growing ever long,
A cat beside, and no-one inside
Except some brick and whim.
A tuft-boy sat, upon a leaf
He didn’t know why, nor had he teeth
The water so clear,
As he skipped without fear
“Gos tyur, votep?”
So the red boy walked, he could not cease,
Clouded he was, and without peace
Filled with love
And a deep understanding of none.
Up from the grass
In a large hollow bask’
Sitting there drinking tea.
To a tree he looked
Where he then became hooked
On the sight of a juniper friend.
The sand on the hill
Began to shake and stir
For those who saw, it was truly a bore
“Ho, he ha, ha ha.”