Poem - The Perfect Spring Garden

Post date: May 03, 2014 9:49:20 AM

By Lina Willowwood   Me neighbours all have tended lawns, with flowers in the spring   But when I see their loving care, I feel a bitter sting   Me garden is a barren plot, devoid of lush and life   Except them weeds that grow so thick, they broke me shearing knife   A year ago, I saw the larks and swallows bring the sun I brought me shovels, hoes and picks, and when the day was done The weeds were gone, the lawn was flat, the beds were good to go

Now flowers, taters, berries, peas would find a home ter grow

With rain and sleet and drizzling drops, the seeds began ter sprout

The finest garden in the Shire, of that I had no doubt

The harvest would be grand this year, the flowers rich and strong

But nature soon resolved ter prove me dreams were naught but wrong

A lazy morn I woke to sounds of laughter from me yard

A drove of shrews ran through me beds, they partied long and hard

They dug the ground, they ate the veg, they wagged their icky tails

They cheered upon a slimy pair of flower-eating snails

I tried ter chase the icky wicked creatures and their spawn

But from above another foe descended on me lawn

A flock of crows decided it was time ter stop to eat

And sure enough, them found me home-grown berries fresh and sweet

The sun was shining bright and clear, but horrors it revealed

What once had been me pride and joy, now looked a battlefield

But scarier than cackling crows, than shrews exchanging hugs

The fence gave way to hordes of large and hungry slugs and bugs

I called upon some bounders from the local cheerful inn

They charged into me property with much ado and din

But soon I found them digging through me lawn with gleeful roars

Apparently me ground was full of rare and shiny ores

Between the shrews and bugs and slugs, my vegs were all but gone

Me yard a maze of tunnels deep, where bounders worked ’til dawn

And looking at it all, I couldn’t help but feel bereft

When sturdy bounder ponies ate the flowers that were left

When desperate the times may be, all efforts should be used

I hope yer understand me acts, that I may be excused

I called upon a band of rowdy hobbits from the south

They came with looks of zestful zeal, with bagpipes in their mouth

Now did yer ever hear the sound of twenty pipes at once?

The garden shook, the darkness fell, the shrews just had to bounce

The crows lost all their feathers while the madness took the bugs

And down the road, the bounders ran off crying with the slugs

Me neighbours all have tended yards, with flowers in the spring

But no and nay and never more, I feel that bitter sting

Me garden may be full of weeds, but that is grand for me

What better place ter greet the spring, with lazy naps and tea?