Gardener at Heart - Book Two


Beyond the edge where no one digs or hoes,

There grows a patch of scruffy tangled weeds

Where redroot bristles, feral carrot blows,

And prickly lettuce spangles fluffy seeds;

A pointy insect guards a mottled leaf,

And spiders drape their tatting everywhere;

A feline thistle shows its claws and teeth,

And mullein masquerades as something rare.

This place is just a white space on the map

Beyond the fat well-tended garden beds,

And no one ever tries to make a path

Through all these knotted vines and scratchy heads;

    But it’s a place where butterflies are seen,

    And mornings, it wears diamonds like a queen.

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