Jungle Garden

When we say, "it's a jungle out there",
That all of us must work so hard in,
In our case, it's that patch not quite square
That we, laughing, refer to as "garden".
Mid the amaranth, mustard, and purslane,
Sweet clover, tall dock, and young maple,
Each path, than the other, a worse lane,
With a miniscule showing of staples.
Lambs quarters and campion grow there
Queen Anne's lace and chicory, too,
Cheese mallow and burdock will show there,
And even the hickory do.
After much cogitation and planning
We've thought of a way we might beat it.
We're crossing the lettuce with ragweed,
So rank-tasting, rabbits won't eat it.