It spreads everywhere like a green spume
Growth has the advantage in the moment Carpeting the feet of the trees in velvet
Blanketing undergrowth in thick verdant mist
Naught may assuage its escalation
Nor hinder its advance across the order
We tirelessly wrought in labour before the zenith
Wimbledon may have its manicured courts
But we have the assizes of nature itself
And in earnest she pronounces judgement
Growth is king; long live the summer