Groundskeeper's Grounds.. Poem by Joe Guillotin

Bill, the gardener liked to water the pansies
Until they were flooded, it tickled his fancy
Retarded he was, because of his eccentricities
Ignorant, for sure of a garden's awesome complexities
'Enough' he thought of this picking, shoveling, and raking
Dwelled instead on a different undertaking.

Usually he fixated after watering the lawn- upon.
Nancy, the master's daughters, he would wantingly fawn.
Dwelling on acts with her, in his mind were shaping.
Eventually they led back to picking, shoveling, and raking
Retired to the woodshed, in back of the stately home.
Then stared at the cieling, and began to toss and moan.

He was known to sleepwalk and hypnotically trim the roses.
Every bloom was cut-a nocturnal accident-everyone supposes.

Sleepwalking Bill, absent-minded green thumb.
He trimmed another rose this night, its bloom undone.
Everyone called her name early next morn-her body never found
Dead Nancy's bloom prematurely shorn, her head- on the ground.