The Poetry of Gazebos
Writing endless blogs about metal garden furniture can be trying. It’s not often that you find something truly original to say, so I hope you’ll all appreciate this rare find!
Yesterday, after a hard day in the office, flogging aluminium garden furniture, I turned my hand to my other life, namely as the parent of a small boy. Once I’d tracked down the homework (he, of course, had denied all knowledge of it) and discovered that he’d been tasked with finding a suitable poem (not rude or silly!) for a verse speaking competition, it was straight to the bookshelves for some inspiration. Imagine my surprise, dear reader, when I came across this poem, republished in The Quentin Blake Book of Nonsense Verse.
Gazebos by Roger McGough
What I find wanting in gazebos
Is their herd instinct.
They either pose woodenly in clearings
Way off the beaten track
Or give us come hither looks
From across a grey smudge of lake.
And always alone. Aloof.
They can’t even lay claim
To a collective noun. A posse?
A cluster? A conglomerate?
How they ever manage to reproduce
Is anybody’s guess.
Now all I need is to stumble across an ode to a patio chair or a sonnet for a sun bed. Any budding poets out there?