Out of the chocolate box pretty
Marzipan plastered cottage comes a sound
A little like a trumpet lesson going badly,
Then settling down
To a low insistant moan.
Outside, the roses and the primroses
Look pleasant and secure. A cat stalks past
Most things are as they were before.
The wolf has not been seen
In this neck of the woods for sixty years
The newspapers passed round
Established that the dragon was a myth
Even the brutal landlord’s growing somnolent.
The semihuman sound’s continuing.
A doctor’s called. He makes his measurements
Orders the site closed off behind high walls
Where local schoolkids under gentle supervision
Paint colourful murals full of smiley faces.
There has been no forgotten cottage
These walls are of the natural order
Behind them, we are happy to confirm
There is no gate, no foreign border.