My Garden Was A Roadside Paradise Poem by Mark Heathcote

My garden was a roadside paradise
a picture-perfect postcard-prairie
my garden was a slice of my personality
always trying to be, at its, very best.
But my lovely garden isn't love-blessed
sadly there's a cuckoo perched on my breast
who's decided I should be dispossessed
now bindweed does its best to be caressed
but I can always make another garden
all I need is some dirt with a bit of
sweetness; all I need is a spade, sharpen
I can't be too disheartened my love.
Every garden starts from a dustbowl
it just needs caring-for someone to cajole.