The Invasion

On the battleground of England

Summer is being waged

A riot of yellow sets rape-filled fields ablaze

And pollen clouds like mustard gas to bring the city to its knees.

Lush lawns, blades of foliage barb-wire every inch of spare ground

There is no no-man’s-land

Only the Plant Camp encroaching on the Concrete Jungle

This is Nature taking back her territory, and they say she abhors a vacuum

The trees are her cavalry

Waves of green

creeping and crashing the walls

Fences overwhelmed

with parrying branches

and tendril reinforcements.

Isolated outbreaks of kamikaze daisies

And dandelions take on the pavement

Shaking their shaggy manes triumphantly

on conquering the hostile tarmac terrain

Stabs of floral pattern riddle the rotten garden gate

Dead wood gives way easily to its descendants

But even paving will not prevent them.

Against the relentless vernal assault

Even concrete doesn’t stand a chance.

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