There was an old man I used to know

who could throw down a seed and then it would grow.

He could take a brown plant

IN SPITE OF NO GREEN THUMB

I’ve thought sometimes

it would be nice

if I’d been born with a green thumb

when

A Green Thumb

We used to sit on our porch and look

At flowering shrubs, vines gone astray

And trees that were once small

Her love of nature knows no bounds

She savors the colors, the fragrance, the sounds

from lilacs to lillies, to tomatoes

Old man Mister Mean Gene Crumb,
Had himself a keen, green thumb.
No one knew but I, and John,
For Gene despised most everyone.