My girls soon grow, increase in height <br />then steer to weedy left or right. <br />Each stem will veer or fork or shove: <br />in hell, roots wind; blooms nod above; <br />a cherry twist, some salad tossed, <br />view vine's curled prime and apples sauced; <br />this raised-up maze, foul thicket's clog, <br />stalks drop, like logs, while pond drips bog. <br />So tipsy, crooked- rant! berate! <br />Know plants must slant: no maid goes straight!<br /><br />Glenn Bagshaw<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/herrick-muses-while-pruning/
