the pathway to the red front door of number twenty two

     was bordered by two immaculate waist high hedges

 

parallel laurels clipped and choked by a mothers pride

     a post downfall nirvana for slugs and snails of all kinds

 

fat umber leopards mingled with aspersa and  pomatia

     leaving the route to the house a pyrrhic battleground

 

the cost of a war between giants and gastropods

     tattered doc martens and crisp, cornflake shells

 

the sweet amber days were mere skirmishes

     practice runs for the jet black midnight crusades

 

a sherry addled teenager hell bent on terror

     full of repressed rage and egg shell anxiety

 

the snap, crackle and pop

     the rustle and the razing

they never stood a chance

 

each step extinguishing life

     each cut and thrust dismantled the defences

until the red door was cold breath close

 

the battle was over

the war had begun.