back to poems menu
To Gareth, Martin and Jonathan
The weeds in the garden were many.
The gardeners were but a few
and three little blooms in the corner
were causing a hullaballoo
My roots can't draw any water
and my stems never get any dew.
The weeds are blocking my leaves from the sun
I just do not know what to do!
The gardeners always forget us
In the corner we're hidden from view
If I could just push my head through that hole
They'd see us and know what to do
The little bloom fought with all of his might
and soon he just grew and grew
Before long he'd reached the hole in the wall
and promptly popped his head through
It was Bob the gardener that saw him
and he knew what he had to do
Down in the shed he searched through his tools
And soon he appeared with his hoo
(ok so it's hoe - this is poetic licence for goodness sake)
In minutes the weeds had been scattered
and the three blooms were now in his view
But the look in his eye caused the three blooms to cry
for it turned out that they were weeds too!