The Garden

The garden is all she cared for,
Out there every day weeding away;
Pouring the water,
Happy to be at play.

She tended the hibiscus,
She pruned the roses, she cared for the daffodils;
She hummed a little tune,
While I watch her from the windowsill.

I was feeling neglected,
And damned if I wasn't jealous over a plot of land;
My woman was satisfied with a communion of nature,
But I felt a little less a man.

I wanted to rip out the azaleas, I wanted to shred the violets,
Stomping out to the dirt, ready to ensue,
I read a little handwritten sign that read:
"I spend my time here, tending this garden for you".