While you compliment my garden,
I must ask to beg your pardon.
As you watch the pond’s reflection,
I need to utter one correction.
It’s all my wife, and her green thumb.
She always says that I’m too dumb
To see her horticulture goals.
I’m just the guy that digs the holes.

Now, she has got a gardener’s eye,
And knows, for sure, what plants to buy,
To make this small oasis bloom;
Knows what to snip, or pluck or groom.
I’d really like to garden some,
Even though I’m rather dumb.
So flower arranging-she controls,
But she lets me dig the holes.

What she creates is pure delight.
I’m sure I’d make a horrid sight.
Her skills make this a Shangri-la.
My skills would make this really “BLAH”.
She works until her hands are numb,
I’d help, but she thinks I’m too dumb.
So while she waters and patrols,
I guess I’ll just be digging holes.

I’m just a planter want-to-be’
A master of plantology.
My botanic skills are rather crummy,
I supposed I’m just a blooming dummy.
A master gardener I’d become.
(But she assures me I’m too dumb)
Not capable of switching roles.
Forever bound to digging holes.

07/04/2004

Author's Note: This is a small tribute to my wife and her great gardening skills, I can't take much credit for it...she does it soooo well....Fred M..the hole digger..

Posted on 04/07/2005
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