Cutting The Hedge Poem by Paul Reed

After the blackbirds and robins fledge
Its time for me to cut the hedge
An enormous beast, it has grown
Twelve foot high as time has flown

Extending ladders propped against the side
Up I get with no place to hide
Gloves on and hedge trimmer whirring away
The work takes up most of the day

To trim it back to reasonable proportions
And after taking all safety precautions
So, yes I think you're quite right to ask
It is indeed a gigantic task

One I used to carry out three times a year
When my hands used to move in a sort of a blur
Now, as age has extorted its price
I only manage to cut it twice

But when I'm finished I feel pretty good
Until I realise that feeling's a dud
For another task now awaits my attention
Sweeping up the cuttings not to mention

Bagging the lot and taking to tip
I feel like lying down and having a kip
To regain my strength and rest my patella
Next year I think I'll employ a tree feller