The Gardner With the Army Cap

Across my street with sidewalks shaded by fluttering oak trees, there's a gardener with the army cap... while rascals laugh and play nasty rap; how well tends to his garden without weeds, how glad he is when neighbors clap, and he works serenely in this noiseless haven! Then, Sterlings with colorful wings swap down to steal his lavenders, he chases them away with a voice that frightens playful squirrels: " Leave them alone, let the buzzing bees turn their mild nectar into sweet honey! " In the middle of April he wears old camouflaged shorts, he's amused by a passerby who flashes admiring looks; " Good morning, Pete: your garden is too pretty! " " Thank you, John: it makes me proud and happy! " Each charming flower in his garden has a beauty of its own, "Ah, youth is a beautiful flower but withers with time! " He exclaims shedding tears that sunlight makes sparkle, he has lived a full life and his adventurous days darkle, and finding something to do boosts his esteem, he feels fine; do regrets ever embitter him remembering his wife Sharon?