It was a sunny summer day
Old garden shoes now led the way
I knelt beside my flower bed
My flowers, I knew, were all well fed
But still there was attention needed
This flower bed must now be weeded

I plunged my spade into the ground
And then it was I knew I'd found
A form of life, I saw it squirm
It was a very frightened worm

Aware that some might call me Fool
I gently moved away my tool
My joy of gardening, I now could see
Might translate into tragedy
For forms of life beneath the soil
Which from my gardener's tool recoil

One's joy or pleasure could ruin a life
Ask any wayward husband's wife
My happiness can only be
When nothing's hurt because of me.
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