Taking off work boots

Heavy with the perfume

Of the day’s cut grass

With a patterned rubber door mat

Applying one final insult

To tired feet

Hobbling over wooden floors

To patio doors

That welcome me through

To my hand’s loved work

Like a myriad of tiny suns

Marigolds scream for my attention

Whilst the Maple Tree sighs, busy avoiding the sun

And grass, cooling with its greatly tended green

Gives gentle caress to my blistered feet

Whilst I still curse those bloody work boots

And that barbed wire, rubber door mat.

Wandering my way across

My humble expanse

To a much laboured over dry stone seat

I sit .

And reach out for a freshly poured beer.

The Maple whispers over

“Sure was hot today.”

And aching feet throb in agreement

Whilst the Begonias join the Marigold's

Demand for water and attention.