There’s a Muskrat in the Garden
spreading Mayo on his Toes;
a Muskrat waking from a Dream,
a Dream of garden Gnomes.
Gnomes, stone and silent,
standing over garden Soil;
Gnomes, never compensated
for their sentinel-like Toil.
The Gnomes have had it up to here
with being disregarded.
The Gnomes’ see how they’ve been ignored
and start to grow black hearted.
The Gnomes look for Redemption
and batten down their Hats.
The Gnomes begin a rowdy Rampage;
with a hunt for Dogs and Cats.
The Gnomes fight quite relentlessly
in the dark and sticky Heat.
The Gnomes build concrete Appetites
from the Mayhem in the Streets.
They raid the local Grocery
in their quiet, craggy Craze.
The Gnomes eat every little Thing,
Everything but Mayonnaise.
Gnomes do not like Mayo, so
if ever a Gnome you meet -
Remember this:
Gnomes eat from the Bottom up,
but they run from mayo’ed Feet.
There’s a Muskrat in the Garden
spreading Mayo on his Toes;
a Muskrat closely watching smiles;
the smiles of guardin’ Gnomes.
10/01