Poem — Leonard Lambert

In the Garden Place, amoroso

 

Coming in from every boxed and metal thing
I stumbled on this courtly crowd –
I was on my best behaviour, hope it showed.

Down every aisle I nodded, noted every winning
smile –
very nice to meet you all,
it truly was, newly watered, dressed to kill.

Flaming Katy, a brick-red beauty, you brushed me off.
Proud, apart, Flamingo Plant, headed for the high life –
no, it wouldn’t work, I could never earn enough.

By the low foresty shrubs, small gentlemen cactus
took the air,
and near the door,
a variegated velvety one, a senior madam I’d met
before –

one eye on Wilbur Smith, the other on the money
market –
you stiffly shook, dropped a hint, I didn’t take it.
I hurried past, you didn’t like it.

I turned to go with almost a bow, promised I’d be back.
Typical, they sniffed, not taken in by that.

 

Leonard Lambert

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