The grass grows greener
On the other side
As me, and a former bowling green
No longer have any bowls to hide

Now completely bowl-less, and free
Surrounded by many a beautiful tree
There are no stumps!
In this wonderful surreality

And amongst these fine bowers
Grows a multitude of flowers
Where i pirouette with the fairies
For hours, and hours, and hours

As the smiling humorous sun
Watches on with great fun
Then moons, at the moon
And spun, and spun, and spun
As everyone
Was bowled over

by Jemia