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Weeds - Burns Sonnet
In spring time when the sun kisses the land
with its warmth and winter bids its adieu,
I put away coats and hats and lay my hand
to pulling weeds I wish there were but few.
Few things are more unpleasant than bad weeds
mixed in with good plants they are a bad curse,
when mowing the grass there is nothing worse.
They make the yard ugly and spread their seeds.
Poison helps keep the dandelions down,
it helps but it/'/s so expensive to use.
I just wish weeds and I could make a truce,
such wish is fantasy of course I frown.
Up and at /'/em, aye it/'/s aboot time I know,
hoe in hand to the weed patch here I go.
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