I used to wake to the sound of the snake

A prodding and princing, the garden to take

A little sprinkling to redden a rose

Ever-present layabout, green garden hose

As summer kids to cool out from sun bake

We'd run showers, paddle pools, after grass rake

Would prop him and top him from yard to pose

Full-on, spinning from Hills Hoist-green garden hose

Now when I pass he is bound to the stake

Wrapped around tap and scarcely awake

Condemned to dryness, coiled tight, unwritten prose

Serving water restrictions- green garden hose

Some afternoons in the heat, in a dream doze

Serpent-like you wrap my torso- spellbinding froze

'Liberty' I writhe, my darling to make

Feeling the rush, parting scream- green garden hose

I think maybe ? will', that no one law knows

What can happen in private yard if I chose

I'll slide sleek wetness, public brown I will fake

Parched virtue, sated with my green garden hose

Your lick through my hair becoming a lake

I reach you from knob, u-turn, long length to slake

In shimmering melt, together to coze

Around once more with squealing- green garden hose

So to it- unwind and stretch fat, my snake

Drub and dram, rivulets, stroke duck and drake

My finger in you, spread sparkles to my toes

We arc so widely- lovely green, garden hose

Author affiliation:

Ashlley Morgan-Shae, a widely published poet, is enrolled in a Postgraduate Diploma of Visual Arts at VCAM, Melbourne.