Gardeners Lament
The weeds that grow upon the lawn
Continue growing when they’re shorn
Though treated with a herbicide
It’s no surprise that none have died
The chemicals that you apply
Should make them shrivel up and die
But only seem to feed and nourish
Makes them grow and makes them flourish
Don’t sit there feeling all forlorn
Regarding such a sickly lawn
There’s one solution guaranteed
To eradicate, that awful weed
Get up, go out, put on your coat
Buy yourself a nanny goat
© John W Fenn 21-08-2009
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