Weeds -Burns Sonnet
In spring time when the sun kisses the land
with its warmth and winter bids its adieu,
I put away coats and hats and lay my hand
to pulling weeds I wish there were but few.
Few things are more unpleasant than bad weeds
mixed in with good plants they are a bad curse,
when mowing the grass there is nothing worse.
They make the yard ugly and spread their seeds.
Poison helps keep the dandelions down,
it helps but it's so expensive to use.
I just wish weeds and I could make a truce,
such wish is fantasy of course I frown.
Up and at 'em, aye it's aboot time I know,
hoe in hand to the weed patch here I go.
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