There’s a hole in my garden where a plant should be

I think a mole may be feasting on my zucchini

A carrot just vanished and there goes a pea!

By all that is sacred, I must get that mole

Or I fear that my garden will be nothing but holes,

Leaving only the rocks, that he hasn’t stole.

I’ll take a shovel and smash his head.

One whack and surely, the mole will be dead.

Oh dear! I’ve smashed my best pumpkin instead.

My cabbage are gone leaving several large holes

A tomato plant is sucked straight down by that mole

Leaving a hole that looks like a very large bowl.

Perhaps there is another way

I’ll fill that hole with smoke today

Then that mole won’t want to stay.

I can’t see my garden as smoke fills the sky

It burns my eyes and makes me cry

It clears to a big empty patch in my rye!

There will be nothing left, that mole’s such a hog.

To save my garden, I’ll turn loose the dog

And flood it all out; turn it into a bog.

The dog tears through the garden, pouncing on each hole

He tromps on my plants and knocks down a bean pole.

A muddy mess is created, but alas! No mole.

I watch as another tomato plant disappears

There goes a potato and a head of lettuce. Oh dear!

I’d better plant enough for me AND the mole next year.