I had hoped to clean this up but AOL keeps knocking me off and I am fast losing interest.

Gnome Poem
(with apologies to "The Minstral Boy")

The Garish Gnome on a strike has gone
Under Briey Bridge he is danglin'.
His turf serf life has he abandoned.
He won't guard the fuschia plants a-hangin'.

"Land of Lawns", says this noble dwarf,
"I hope the lads pound cleats in thee.
I seek a sailing prow at Fisherman's Wharf.
Or the useful job of Lawn Jockey."

They cut the gnome down mid his wailing moan.
His large nose was crushed upon the pavement.
A Garden Gnome has not a heart of stone
Though his nose be pressed granite and cement.

The Garden Gnome Liberation Front
Saw their resolve harden
But the little gnome was punished more by far
He is chained in Marvins Gardens*.

"Land of Lawns"...

*For those of you who don't play Monopoly, MG is a street in Atlantic City, the Land of Tacky.