‘Gladys, there is a leaf on the lawn!’ Norman said, all forlorn.
‘Oh, wait till morning.’ said Gladys, ‘Come back to bed.’
But Norman was getting dressed,
With such speed that Gladys was impressed.
He put on his coat, his hat, and his clogs – he did it quite quietly not to awaken the dogs – and out he went into the dark
with his eyes unaccustomed to a leaf in his park.
And there he met Mark.
Mark was a man from the Leave It society,
a group of concerned arborealists,
with a certain notoriety.
‘I want you to leave leaves alone! Let them fall on your garden, give them chance to be grown.’
Norman was no man to be told what to do,
he modelled his lawn on the nicest in Kew,
and at this time of night,
what was this young fellow about,
it was Norman, enraged, who started to shout,
‘Get off of my land, yon leaf, and young man!
You wouldn’t get this disrespect in China or Japan,
where they grow things quite tidily,
and treat them with care,
I don’t expect you’re annoying anyone there!’
At that moment, along came a policeman, who sorted the fuss.
Then three in a row of the neighbourhood bus.
It was at this very moment that they all started to scream.
And, sweating, I awoke, from an unsettling dream.