Horticulture

Bindweed like white morning glory

I was too vain, second guessing the rain

She never did call, never did fall for me

To become a gardener two springs ago

On some land I just bought

I never thought she would cultivate and teach

With the roots and the shoots and the leaves

Love is simple horticulture

Love is simple horticulture

Give a whistle

Hold the thistles with care

True, I worry more in December for sure

Deciduous love, rest my sheets o'er her buds

Fearing winter's loss, for that old wry Jack Frost's cold as ice

When darkness is late in descending, I'll wait

In backyard July soil cloaked I will lie out like a wren in her bed, in her hymn

Love is simple horticulture

Love is simple horticulture

Give a whistle.

Hold the thistles with care

Hold the thistles with care

I will wear and I'll tear when the harvest is spare

For the drought, I'll prepare an arbored sanctuary

In spring I'll behold, my garden, she grows

Untold marigolds, worthy of fables

My garden, she knows

Love is simple horticulture

Love is simple horticulture

Give a whistle

Hold the thistles with care