The Rime of the Ancient Gardener

It is an Ancient Gardener,
Leaning on the fence.
“There was a cabbage, once” says he:
His look is most intense.

“A cabbage, once, indeed, there was,”
This man is such a bore.
I can’t escape, I know I’m stuck
For half-an-hour or more.

“This cabbage was a mighty veg”
The Gardener’s droning on.
I listen now with drooping lids
And wished I could be gone.

“It’s getting on, I need to go!
I have to meet my son!”
I try all these excuses, but
The Gardener witters on.

“White fly, white fly, everywhere!”
The Gardener wouldn’t stop.
My eyes are glazed, I’m in a daze,
I’m ready now to drop.

A miracle! Some gentle rain!
The Gardener gives a ‘tut’
And rushes off, a-muttering,
To shelter in his hut.

I, too, depart, with gladdened heart,
But, as I walk away,
I’m sobered by the knowledge
He'll be back another day.