I bought a little lemon tree –
then dug a hole, quite skilfully
where space was tight, but still on show.
They are, it’s said, not hard to grow.
I tended it with fertiliser,
and overwatered, then no wiser.
Glossy leaves became quite faint.
Chlorosis! Commonplace complaint!
A lacy pattern on the leaves
is nature’s art. An insect weaves
a tunnel through, while eating cells.
I looked up sprays and magic spells.
I checked the Internet for sites
and learnt to classify the mites
which “don’t disturb an older tree.”
Alas, my tree was hardly three.
The fruit was fine – ah no, I lie –
The year of pinpricks meant fruit fly,
their larvae underneath the rind,
so baking cakes was quite a grind.
Another year the fruit surprised
with teeth marks something had incised.
A monstrous possum must have made
my garden target of a raid.
Now, aphids and a fungal rot
as well as furtive black-ringed spot
have taken hold. Too many bugs!
I've got my shears. There'll be no hugs.
