Poem -

A Burglar In The Pergola

A Burglar In The Pergola

My neighbour said that he was on the patio, oh no,
I thought it may be called a terrace in India or so,
in South Africa they call it a 'stoep,' said Douw,
but somebody tried to tell me it was a gazebo.

I see theĀ notice on the door - 'I'm in the garden,'
lounging in a fancy summer house, you could rely on;
a friend built a glass circle as an illuminated tower,
when complete, he could have a shower in the bower.

Love in the garden produced ardour in the arbour,
although sometimes you just couldn't go any further,
beauty seemed to come right on Kew, an arboretum,
who did I see sitting on a bench - it was Anya Sitaram.

She said that she'd finished reading the news for today,
there had been a burglar in the pergola, so they say,Ā Ā 

Ā 

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