The most curious thing in my acre of lawn This morning, the day when long winter departs The brown croquet ball of the rash Queen of Hearts A bristly thorn bush of quills tinted fawn I watched as he plodded so wobbly on He snuffled and snorted with hesitant gait His little nose twitching and smelling the air He spotted not apples, but he did not despair The cat had left food which he noisily ate I watched and I realised how I could relate The long snooze impending, he had to prepare Half his life wasted no time for a mate And prickly spikes would make love hard to share How sad life would be if each hug ripped a tear Pain is much worse when you hurt those you lean on.