I squeezed through a hedge
Of jumbled words, came to
A large field, smooth and
White as a sheet of paper.
Took cuttings from the hedge
Tried to make a pattern
On paper, soon it became a
Maze of verbs that muttered
Dark sentences during nights.

Couldn’t find my way out,
Doomed to write for me and
Stray cats, to weed and on
Occasion glean an orchid
Amongst muscular greenery.
Black tulips, cobalt roses, red
Bananas and sweet lemons,
Created by me for my lame
Dog and feral cats.