• Home
  • Jude's Comic Poetry
    • Scrambled
    • Blue
    • How I saved the World
  • Jude's poetry
    • I shall be the storm
    • 40 years on
    • Identity Theft
    • No elves here
  • Jude's Short Stories
    • The Darkening Village
    • Love of a Dream
    • The Dancer
  • Arry and Ilda by Jude
    • The Fine Art of Pruning
    • Dessert Spoon Mystery
    • Bingo Pen Mystery
    • The Lemon Meringue Pie
  • Something in your Face
    • Something in your face

The Fine Art of Pruning

Harry and Hilda have a house with gardens back and front

The only problem the couple have, is their neighbour to be blunt.

They have a beautiful tulip tree that blossoms every spring. 

which the neighbour round the back keeps unfortunately pruning.


Harry has had many words with their neighbour Mr Drear, 

Telling him he is pruning at the wrong time of the year 

It is detrimental to the tree, and will lead to its untimely demise.

Mr Drear just ignores the advice and everything that implies.


‘I’d like to prune his bloody limbs  said Harry to his wife

and not just his deadwood I’d take all his blooming life.

One day Hilda gesticulated with her current cup of tea

“that mad man Mr Drear has put his ladders against our tree”.


Harry stomped out of the house to have harsh words with those Drears, 

But poor Harrys angry words only fell on a pair of deaf ears. 

‘Ooh I could kill you Mr Drear’ shouted Harry from his garden, 

He then turned and marched into the house slamming the door behind him.


But life often throws a curveball.

Sometimes over a garden wall


It was midwinters eve at 4 A M, on a cold and frosty night ,

When a noise awoke our Hilda and gave her a blasted fright. 

‘Wake up we’ve got burglars’, she shouted at her man

Someone is downstairs and it’s not the bogyman.


Harry eventually woke up, from a warm and pleasant dream 

The noise in the house was louder. “Shh woman, do not scream”

He pulled on his fleecy dressing gown and grabbed his baseball bat,

The one he kept beside the bed, in case aliens should attack. 


Through the bedroom door he crept down to the Living room

He threw the door violently open  and peered into the gloom.

Harry did not realise that the burglar was behind said door.

The door had hit the burglar and  knocked him to the floor.


Harry peeped around the door to see who he could see

It was  Mr Drear the neighbour, who seemed as dead as dead can be. 

Harry was astonished, why was he in their home,

In the dead of the night on a Sunday and all on his own.


Harry then called Hilda, and she gave a little squeal,

I wonder what he wanted, we have nothing here to steal.

The next thing Hilda asked was “can you tell if he is dead’

Harry knelt down by the body and put his fingers to the head 


Harrys fingers felt no pulse at all, No breath, no warmth, no life

I’ve killed him dead by my own hand, what shall we do dear wife.”

Now I would have thought that Harry, with his love of puzzles and crime,

could take this situation and deal with it just fine.


But he had never murdered anyone not even about his tree,

‘I’ll put the kettle on Harry, everything seems better with a cup of tea’

The tea was made and the tea was drunk.’’

And Harry started to come out of his funk


“No one knows he was here with us. So what if we just get rid of the body, 

Clean up and no one is the wiser”. That plan didn’t seem too shoddy.

“But what shall we do with the corpse” Hilda was still suffering with fright.

“let’s cut him up and bury him serve the bugger right”.


“I’m not sure I can do that” said Harry, “you know what I am like.

I got queasy clearing the garage out and caught my finger on a spike”.

“I’ll do it , said our brave Hilda, “leave the butchering to me.”

It will be no worse than pruning our beloved tulip tree.


She rolled Mr Drears body on to a plastic sheet

The one they used when they decorated to keep the furniture neat

The body was cut into pieces. With Harrys sharpened knife

“Let’s just roll him up temporarily” said his now well bloodied wife. 


“We’ll continue on as normal, and keep an ear out for any news “

Mr Drear was placed in the freezer, to make sure he did not ooze.

The couple started gardening, digging, pruning, that sort of thing, 

They dug up last year’s bulbs and planted more for the next spring.


Small parts of My Drear was included in this spree, 

A hand, an ear, a toe or nose buried deep below the tree.

They noted many comings and goings over the back wall, 

But nobody came to ask them about Mr Drears most deadly fall.


At last the burying was complete  and the couple were very pleased

They had included a new water feature because some of the plants were diseased.

Mr Drear and various spring flowering bulbs had been planted around the Tree.

Harry and Hilda admired their work over another cup of tea.


They waited to be questioned about the missing Mr Drear

But nothing happened to worry them both so lets jump to spring the next year.

The daffodils came up brighter than they had ever done before

And the fountain tinkled nicely as if they lived right by the shore


And the Tulip tree fed regularly by Mr Drears remains

Blossomed better than ever as if fed on Drear champagne

Write By Me

Copyright © 2025 Write By Me - All Rights Reserved.

Powered by

This website uses cookies.

We use cookies to analyze website traffic and optimize your website experience. By accepting our use of cookies, your data will be aggregated with all other user data.

DeclineAccept