My garden’s not like your’s at all

With roses rambling round the door.

And yet I love it! Love it all!

My garden in the rain.

In my garden there’s a few

(Not roses) but a bush or two.

And there are flowers that grow

In untidy heaps, not in a row.

The path is strewn with bits of things

With roaming weeds and rubbish bins

There’s string and wood and pots and straw

And a chook or two coming through the door.

My home is just a place to stay

And laze away a sunny day.

Under a shady fern or two

And read a book, and dream anew

Of greenrow hedges and toylike trains

And friendly people, twisting lanes,

Sunny smiles and garden walls

Herbs and scents and gardens small.

And of the rain, the rain again!

It’s pattering on the window pane.

And yet I love it! Love it all!

Your garden in the rain.