Vines romp
Rabbits chomp
I wish rabbits
Would adopt habits
Of dining on vinings.

Slugs chew
Slimy glue!
I wish slugs
Would eat bugs
Instead of fancying plantings.

Moles tunnel
Lumpy chunnels
I wish moles
Disliked holes
And would vacate my estate.

Goundhogs? Voracious!
Smart and audacious
I wish groundhogs
Were not plant hogs
And would settle for helpings of nettles.

Voles multiply
Armies of small fry
I wish voles
Put controls
On their dating and mating.

Tics like to suck
Any old pot-luck
I wish ticks
Limited picks
To moles or to voles.

Tree beetles burrow
In fissures and furrows
I wish tree bark
Was not such a mark
And beetles would choke on their oak.

Fawns nibble
On every tender green kibble
I wish fawns would show up
After they grow up
And feed on a diet of weeds

Would that I could
Yes, I think I should
Pack them off in a circus car
On a quick trip to Pixar
Where they can all star

In fake science flicks
That film rabbits and ticks
And slugs, deer, and moles
And beetles and voles
And groundhogs,
Those plant hogs,

Practicing tactics galactic,
Winning high-flown games,
And making high-blown claims
To own
Seats on some Great Garden Throne.

Maybe then they’d leave MY garden alone.

Sigh. . .

Until they send back their heirs new-grown.

Now here’s a rabbit that’s doing what he should be doing: dining on vinings — but wait — that’s MY clematis ‘Henryi’