Cant say a word
theyre rejoicing on the greens
as blossoms cover everywhere
round tree roots and inbetween
and in the warmth the flowers sway
playing in the breeze
floating around, without a sound
moving pollen with the bees
grabbing the poor sneezing soul
with hay fever by the throat
as pollen collects en masse like an army
around his collar and coat
and while he sits on the park bench
hed love to go and play
wi others on the large pitch
but pollens in his way
The Inkwell 
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