The Gardener
Each new day brings forth new flowers,
Of rambling Roses and ivory towers,
Your day begins at crack of dawn,
The dew on the petals, a sunlit morn.
Oh Ginger Cat amongst the weeds,
I beg you 'stop' don't dig my seeds,
I know you're helping in your own way,
But Cats and gardens don't mix, or so they say.
Tip-toeing through the bushes, gardening can be such
fun,
Chasing Butterflies, chasing Bees, the battle is never
won,
High Hollyhocks, swaying side to side,
Lusty Lupins, flowering Foxgloves, so many places to
hide.
The long and leafy weeping willow,
The heady Lavender, a Chamomile pillow,
A place to rest in pleasant shade,
And soon the days best plans are rest to laid.
A Gardeners work is never done,
But it's so much easier in the mid-day sun,
I tend my weeds and flower beds,
Then let out a stifled yawn, and realise, it's time for
ZZzz's.
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