I Speak these words softly for those who hear hard.
In a moment, a naked man will run through the garden.
Okay, so the truth is he won’t be quite nude.
He’ll bear boxers, briefly, to not appear rude.
The garden is properly private, in a sense,
but of course it’s quite easy to see through the fence.
If you look past the plum tree, through timbered split rails
you’ll see happy dogs playing, chasing their tails
as a naked man sits on a hill, talking silly.
Look if you want, please don't point at his ... Will he
or won't he? If a question remains
regarding his guarding, the garden pertains
to all the odd things a man can't compromise.
This much is certain. You needn't surmise
that there are things without which a man can’t do.
Kept unto myself, I will give mine to you
in these words, as I whisper this quieting sound.
For those hard of hearing, it’s hardly profound.
We live with masked bandits, and burrowing hogs.
Relating that extends this ideologue
to show how we know to dispose them as such.
We might not mind them, except for how much
they can damage good stuff, like our veggies and fruit.
If they only ate some, we might not give a hoot,
but it isn't that simple. Excuse this brief rant.
Hogs and masked bandits can destroy every plant!
So, rather than complain, or get all intense,
resolve is our answer. At first came the fence,
but that wasn’t enough to keep all varmints out.
To find resolution, again, there's no doubt
that is why I’m writing, so you’ll understand:
Protecting our garden, I’m just a naked man
resolved to solving the problems discussed.
Thusly, my motto is, “In Dog We Trust.”