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Poetry Pleases: The End Of Summer

Gill Laurence's poem could not be more topical, in England now.

The hedgehog on the birdbath rim
Looked up and cried, “Here’s rain.”
The watering can said grumpily,
“They won’t need me again.”

“Oh yes they will,” the hose replied,
“I’m curling up to rest;
They’ve left me out all summer.
My plastic’s past its best.”

The dainty hoe squeaked, “Goodness me,
The ground has been so hard
The weeds have even sent me
A cheeky, ‘Good Luck’ card.”

Said secateurs, “We can’t complain;
We’ve got a lot to do,
Dead heading roses ere they fall,
And all the dahlias too.”

And then we’ve got to prune the shrubs.
The garden’s looking rough.
They’ll make a bonfire of the leaves
And think that’s good enough.”

The lawnmower said, “One last cut
Is all I’m going to get.
They’ll shove me in the shed and then
Their lawn they will forget

Until next spring, and then we’ll all
Be coming out again.
For now we can keep nice and warm.
So three cheers for the rain.”

But Jake, the gnome growled, “Wait and see.
This shower’s not going to last.
We’ve got a long time yet my friends
Before this summer’s passed.”

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