I said, in fear: “Don’t come to near,
Or else my teeth may bite.
They are sharp like razor blades,
And very clean and white.”
The soldiers round dived to the ground,
Upon my little threat,
And said: “You will not chew us dead,
Nor ever hurt us yet.”

They did not get my little jest,
For I would never hurt a man,
But - to my joy - they all walked out,
The timid ones they ran!
Now my house was free once more,
And so I turned the radio on,
To hear a song of joy and fear,
Which played and then was gone.

Then, alone, within my home,
I started to the plants to talk.
I said: “My greenish little men,
How do thee come to stalk?
Ye follow me around my tree,
Within my garden walls.
Ye cushion me, I gladly see,
Whenever I have falls.”

And so replied a daffodil,
All balanced, poised upon the table:
“You are wise, oh human one,
And you are more than able
To combat life with gun or knife,
Or peacefully with words,
And whilst you stand with lonesome pride,
The many hide in herds.”

I knew the wisdom that it spoke,
This house-grown garden flower,
And as its words flowed through the air,
They passed away the hour.
But as the night grew on and on,
The time was getting late,
The plants around just withered down,
A decomposing fate.

“Please leave me not”, I screamed and yelled,
“I want you back”, I cried,
But every plant within each pot
Had withered down and died.
I lay in bed and in my head
I hoped for pleasant dreams,
But nightmares came, all sound the same,
Of daffodils and screams.


© 2000 Matt Everett