When I am Rich I will still live in the countryside, but not in the part of our green and pleasant land where I am now. I love having trees, grass and wild plants of all kinds as my neighbours. I have no problem with fields of wheat, barley, potatoes, beans, cabbages, turnips or other vegetables. Orchards would be a delight! But I don’t want to be in a place where I can see this from my window:
A-tishoo!
Oh, what is that honeyed fragrance
that wafts on the summer breeze? ‘Tis surely the scent of ambrosia
that gods sup while taking their ease.
Is it the breath of sweet roses,
or lilies both costly and rare?
Does it drift from the north or the south,
this perfume that fills all the air?
I must find the source of this wonder,
so I follow my nose down the lane.
And there, like a giant’s spilled treasure,
is a shimmering, bright yellow plain.
I gaze at the dazzle of flowers
till my eyes and my nose start to stream.
Oh, no! Dreaded oilseed rape!
Where’s my anti-histamine?
Where’s my anti-histamine?
