Who’ll rid me of this troublesome weed?

Out in the garden, brazen

as day Sits the thing that stole my

sanity away. Just a yard or so south of

the rockery It squats defiant in

its mockery Of a genius no one is able

to trace I think it’s actually from

outer space. Abandon all hope for

nothing impedes Augustus Robustus: King of

the Weeds.

A testament to survival of

the species Impervious to all of

nature’s caprices Come winter frost or

summer drought Throughout the worst, it

continues to sprout. Tough and tenacious with an

indomitable will Augustus Robustus is near

impossible to kill.

Immune to toxins of

lethal repute You can dig it up, but you

won’t find the root.

Every day I try my

earnest best To free the garden of this

pernicious pest. I’ve buried it in mounds

of sulphurous sands

And tried to strangle it with

my bare hands. Even the flame thrower

bought on eBay Couldn’t finish off this

belligerent baby. Till my dying day you’ll hear

me plead Who will rid me of this

troublesome weed?

Empires will rise and empires

will fall, Civilisations may clash and

end it all. Continents shall drift and

split asunder But nothing can harm this

botanical wonder. Should asteroids ever

pulverise the planet It should evolve and

somehow withstand it, And when the sun fades to a

glowing husk Robustus will flourish in the

eternal dusk.

John Steven, Troon, South Ayrshire.