The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
and miles to go before I sleep,
and miles to go before I sleep.

The grass in our garden is almost waist-high in places, those places are my favourite. I am self-medicating; cup of tea
cigarette
bed
cigarette
bed
I formulate equations that my mind won't schism over; occupied=content...

I love the lush danger that our unmanicured lawn presents; exotic and dreamy.
People look at it and say "don't mow much, eh?"
wondering how we can stand to have nature taunting us with it's verdant virility,
or how I can be unconcerned with what people think of the state of our yard.

Mowing the lawn; what is that? Bizarre ritual.
Our miniature jungle in beautiful, if I was a house-cat I would go and pretend to be a tiger.