The Oak Tree
There’s an Oak Tree in my garden,
But it isn’t very tall,
It’s only a hand span high,
So, it’s barely a tree at all.
I don’t know where it came from,
There are no Oaks for miles around,
I suspect a bird flew over,
And dropped it on the ground.
There’s a Bluebell in my garden,
It wasn’t there when I bought my home,
It appears out front each Spring,
So, I think it’s been self-sown.
There’s a Holly tree in my garden,
I know not from whence it came,
It barely reaches to my knee,
But it’s a tree, all the same.
There’s a Baytree in my garden,
It sprouted near an old seat,
But the leaves are the wrong type for cooking,
So I can’t use them in things to eat.
There’s a small Fern in my garden,
I found it out the back,
I’ve put it in a planter,
That’s shaped like a flour sack.
This gardening lark is easy,
With all the things I’ve found,
I don’t need spade or trowel,
To put plants in the ground.
I walk around the garden,
In shade or in full sun,
To find new things a-growing,
Oh look, there’s another one.