A gathering teatherd tends
Toolingly betook to the shed
When feet aflict affection
For unfamiliar flights of stairs
I am forward and often
Stair whistfully
Up-plucked a lucky penny
And said guilty lipped prair
To tend again the weed-worn
To neglect envy
Pardon me, madam
There isn't call to fear my mother
Has encouraged me
To garden though she doesn't
Knowing not my lovers names
Escape our groping rather
Knotted
Gather the sparring coppers
Potted
Speakidly crestfallen wishes too
Sprout by the watercress
Desparing loppers
Rust and neglect she knew
Because a woman.