Two Garden Poems 
A Member of the Garden Club 
I haven't time for music, The hollyhocks like pokers 
I haven't time for art Are standing in a row, 
I haven't time for reading, Gay heads and naked bodies 
In games I take no part: A most unseemly show. 
For I must weed and spray and grub And I must spray and spray and spray 
Since I have joined the Garden Club. Of course, I haven't time to play. 
The bugs are on the roses, My pinks are winter killed, 
The worms are at the roots And I must plant some more. 
Of my most choice delphiniums, One sunflower I set 
And little tender shoots And now they're forty score 
Of other things are brown and dead And I must grub and dig and hoe 
From aphis green and aphis red. And fight them as a mortal foe. 
I've done with social functions, 
I haven't time to gad. 
I haven't time for pleasure 
For I must work like mad, 
And keep a-workin' — there's the rub ! 
As member of the Garden Club. 
Mrs. Julian Keith, 
Warrenton Garden Club. 
My Neighbor's Roses 
The roses red upon my neighbor's vine 
Are owned by him, but they are also mine. 
His was the cost and his the labor, too, 
But mine as well as his the joy their loveli- 
ness to view. 
They bloom for me, and are for me as fair, 
As for the man who gave them all his care. 
Thus, I am rich because a good man grew 
A rose-clad vine for all his neighbors' view. 
I know from this, that others plant for me, 
And what they own, my joy may also be; 
So why be selfish, when so much that's fine 
Is grown for you upon your neighbor's vine? 
— From The Short Hills Garden Club. 
