We live in a wild tangle: spider plants,

Joy, easy chairs, their day long had,

A plethora of cats, daughters that dance

Lose things and watch the box and love their Dad,

Rooms that are pastel pink and blue and green,

Corners where cherished cobwebs fear no broom,

Gnarled table-legs where cats’ long claws have been.

And nooks where shadows spread a friendly gloom,

Fine ancient bric-a-brac chosen with care

Long shelves of books well-loved and worn, a Mum

Whose young heart has a part in all that’s there,

Without whom home and all the world is glum,

Her garden! Filled with flowers singing songs

Of our wild tangled home where love belongs. 

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