Lawns

The first house that we lived in had a scutty little yard,
The maintenance of which was not particularly hard.
Occasionally I’d get the brush and go outside and sweep it,
But, truth be told, it didn’t take much more than that to keep it.

The second house we owned possessed a smallish rear lawn,
Which posed a certain problem when it needed to be shorn.
It was too small for a mower, but ‘twas too big for the shears,
And so we paved it over after three back-breaking years.

Our present domicile comes with a garden front and back,
Both subject once a summer fortnight to a mower attack.
It has thistles, it has buttercups and miles and miles of clover,
But despite the work, I’d never dream of concreting it over.