Its All About The
spade in hand
ready to till the land
the garden lays before me
weeds quake in fear
as my foot steps come near
Titchmarch move on over
plants with names
that would but doctors to shame
I'm the master of this garden
I plan paths and pools
misplace my tools
while I'm laying out this garden
between the weeds
I plant flower seeds
I'm waiting for the summer
but with the ashes on the tele
and united getting ready
the gardening will wait till, next February
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