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Grady McMurtry

Have you ever planned a garden

Hoed it through with minute care

Not a weed or grass root pardon

Track each gopher to his lair?

Trace him to a fresh turned dirt pile

Where you had a stalk of corn

Or a budding bed of myrtle

Standing on the mound, forlorn?

Then begins the merry hunting

As with hose and water (wet)

You drowned out half the neighborhood

And here’s the thanks you get.

No recompense for labor,

When he won’t be caught he won’t

Because, you see, with gophers

Now you have him, now you don’t!

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