Sweltering at the end of summer
when crunchy's the plucked pear
time to be my own better
time for action: end the stare.
With shears and with billhook
I regain gravel and sunken patio:
what has snaked is now in schtook;
what has reared high I bring low.
Though maybe wilderness had a will
to aid and abet the planet,
somewhere under all this spill
what we once laboured for lies yet.
Slash! That's a Trump cut down.
Schnick! Clack! Boris stumbles.
There goes Poisoner Putin's crown.
Xi's palace pooh-face tumbles.
Hands tugging put asunder
twined bindweed and bramble
their Gordian love must under -
-go this violent preamble;
then shears and billhook cut
and slice stems woody-hard,
as if the bramble foresaw that
and vainly armoured.
Rake and cut and rake again
let debris lie some days and die
let sticks wither gasping in rain
let the dew bead and the sun dry.
........................
Re pic - my bill looks like 619 - got it at a country fair near my mother's, over a decade ago.
(I'd say no. 666 looks a bit of a beast ;))