An Abandoned Garden The Society September 25, 2012 Poetry By Robert Crawford By August I noticed the lack of care, And now in September I feel the despair; The rusting tools, the vanished rows, Reveal an all too brief affair. The hopeful beginning has come to a close As a meeting place for sinister crows And devious weeds planning for when They’ll make this a plot where anything goes. What kind of errant husbandman Would let it fall to field again? I think I know, I’ve met a few: A fine egalitarian— The type of man, a touch askew, Who holds the universal view, “To everything, a heart be true,” But saves desertion just for you. © 2001; originally printed in Troubadour: Best of Rhyme. Views expressed by individual poets and writers on this website and by commenters do not represent the views of the entire Society. The comments section on regular posts is meant to be a place for civil and fruitful discussion. Pseudonyms are discouraged. The individual poet or writer featured in a post has the ability to remove any or all comments by emailing submissions@ classicalpoets.org with the details and under the subject title “Remove Comment.” Share this:Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)Click to print (Opens in new window)Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window)Click to share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window)Click to email this to a friend (Opens in new window)Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Leave a Reply Cancel ReplyYour email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email. This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.