Oh, Bookman, oh Bookman, oh Bold Rapparree!
As concerns your landscaping, take warning from me!
You've hired and paid them, their work is near done,
And the schedules and progress reports have been fun.
The speed of their turn out was often quite short,
But your hand at the tiller their schemes did abort,
You harassed and scolded and chided, until
Every modified specification was filled!
But Sir let me tell you, now that all that is done,
Your garden will grow by the clock of the Sun
By moon-phase and calendar seasons will grow
ANd its pacing will be agonisingly slow.
Prepare for the loss of excitement and thrill
As you wait out responses from each daffodil.
The work that you paid for on time and in dough
Will progress so slowly you'll reel from the blow.
To admire a garden takes the pulse of a saint,
And though you may be many things,
That's one thing you ain't!!