The Rhyme of the “Ancient” Gardener

The Old Gardener courtesy Brooklyn Museum

The Rhyme of the "Ancient" Gardener

Spring is coming – Hey, Hooray!
Saw my first Robin yesterday

Time to round up tools from Fall,
sharpen spades and pruners all

Find trash cans for all the clean-up
of the plants that start their green-up

Can hardly wait till April’s here,
Its warmer days are coming near

Getting Spring tools fixed is easy
It’s the other things that make me queasy

Things like getting hips and knees
to bend, and squat, and work with ease

Something I call “The Gardener’s Curse”
Ground-Level Work – there’s nothing worse!

Now, if I had been a “Snowboard Nut”
I wouldn’t have been in my Winter “rut”

I’d be all loosy-goosy jointed,
my knees and hips be well-annointed

But I preferred to take my ease
all through the Winter’s chilly breeze

Thinking of Spring and warm sun-rays,
dreaming of weather’s better days

But even if it takes some weeks
to get my “bod” to tuned-up peaks

If the ski slopes had been my gym,
I could be healing a broken limb

And that would take much time to mend
No, I’d rather stretch and stoop and bend

I’ll take my pills and Ibuprofen
and thank the Lord that nothing’s broken!

Cheers,

Gardener Dave