Paradise Lost: walking in the Lake District

Paradise Lost

Hanging fungus yellow popcorn

Bright green mattresses of moss

Rowan berries like orange stars

In the bracken tawny dawn.

But paradise is lost,

You have been warned,

For amongst that ferny universe

Ticks await in swarms

Deer, sheep or human. To them it’s all the same

They sense your heat and din

Pulsating, thick warm blood, that’s their gain

As they drop from frond to skin

Don’t wear shorts,

Don’t leave the path

Get the tick remover ready

And drown them in the bath.

Every black spot brings alarm

They are crawling up so high

You start to itch all over

As they reach your inner thigh.

You need inspecting where you cannot see

But even your loved ones draw a line

They will not look too deep

Where the sun will never shine.

So bend over double mirrors

Twist and turn, a yoga farce

Remember reverse vision,

As you tweezer round your arse.

My grandson Freddie, then aged 10, started this poem on a Lake District holiday. Walking through woods on the way home, he volunteered the arresting opening image of fungus like yellow popcorn. The next day we periodically tried out various episodes and rhymes as we walked. We had been badly ticked earlier in the week, so this emerged as diverting comic horror. I fine tuned it later. The final verse was much appreciated.

MyTMyMhis poem started as a joint venture with my grandson Freddie, during a walk in the .Lake District.. Indeed My grandson, FrteddioeFreddie started it all with the arresting first line im MyMuyage of fungus like yellow popcorn. Periodically, as we walked, we tried out various episodes and rhymes. Later on I fine -tuned.