Lay of the Lawn Mower

I rest in the cellar all through the hot day

     With never a thing to do;

And I think of the people who toil away,

     The many and not the few.

I think of my master, a good fellow he,

     Who’s anxious for day to close

So he can rush home and exercise me

     Five hours before his repose.

     Then buzz, buzz, buzz

        And click, click, click;

     I bum against a tree,

        I slam against a brick.

     Out at the break of day,

        By candlelight alas!

     You’ll hear me making hay –

        I cut a deal of grass.

How sad I feel for the man with no lawn

     His life must be drear, I know;

Nothing to please him at early dawn,

     No acre of grass to mow.

My master is up at the break of day,

     How happy his morning strain;

He knows a good thing and pushes away,

     Till he has to run for his train.

     Then biff, bang, biff,

        And click, clack, click;

     Perhaps it’s just a stone

        Or else a hidden stick.

     Out at the break of day,

        Or candlelight, alas!

     I may not make much hay,

        But I cut a deal of grass.

April 22, ‘09