Mrs. Gordon's garden grows
not a radish nor a rose.
Not a beet1 or blade of grass
in the bed beside our class.
Not a truffle. Not a tree.
Not a pepper nor or pea.
Not a pansy, peach or pear.
No azaleas anywhere.
Not a pumpkin2, parsnip, plum,
carrot or chrysanthemum3.
No forget-me-not or fig4.
Not a single sprout5 or twig6.
No carnations7, cabbage, corn.
Not a thistle, thatch8 or thorn.
Not a berry. Not a bean.
Nothing yet remotely green.
Watering and sprinkling seeds,
watching warily9 for weeds,
Mrs. Gordon rakes and hoes.
Still her garden never grows.
But she doesn't seem to mind.
That's the way it was designed.
Mrs. Gordon's quite content
gardening upon cement.