Your green.

Wishful thinking while taken.

Ya see,
I've been out here the dog days
Of summer-
Cutting mine,
Irrigating,
Nurturing,
And flawlessly trimming-
Maybe have a Polaroid that mimics
Reliant stadium's lush salad like greens
With white chalk-
True,
This fortress like fence divides us-
And all that I can help but wonder of your
Green thumbs and their craft
Your hedges,
And your weeds-
Do they take such of maintenance?
Does the rain wash away easier than mine?
Does your blade of grass stand tall
And appreciate your cut by standing tall?
See,
No matter the sweat of my palms,
And the wire of my whacker,
I still get the shrubs
And the dandelions out as thumbs,
For the care that I give
Goes unnoticed
The water distributed is
Only met with greed instead of ample
Dispersing amongst its grassy brethren
Tell me,
If my cat like curiosity was met with
ballsy accord,
Would you call your beast from the back?
Or would you greet me with hostility.
Your gardener now defunct from his
Role of Desperate Housewives,
Has me with beguiled intrigue-
While you converse with your yearn,
I'd scatter your hedge,
Slinky your stairs,
And bed your dream.

Author's Note

Just ramblings- I do not aim for perfection but release only.