There are many sorts of gardener,
there are the TV presenters who know it all,
there are folk in flats with pots on a wall,
they may tend beans that grow so very tall,
or perhaps a daisy with flowers white and small.
Our small town has many gardeners,
there are those who tend the trees in our park,
and those who cut the grass in sweeping arcs,
those that plant seeds in the potting shed's dark,
and those planting borders to give a coloured spark.
Our little road has some good gardeners,
there are those who can't rest if there's a weed,
and those who will wander snipping with speed,
some are happy to potter, poke and feed,
others are content to sit in some shade, to read.
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