Gardener's World Poem by Phil Soar

I've been afraid of darkness,
since I was just a lad,
Of ghouls and Ghosts and woolly coats,
and things that turn out bad,
I've never liked the dentist,
And I'm scared of Monty Don,
I've seen him in my nightly dreams,
Gardening with nothing on;

He's running around with Secateurs,
He looks like he is ill,
His willy look just like a slug,
His arse looks like a hill;
And yet he darts from tree to tree,
Cutting back the growth,
Watching he don't cut his balls,
In case he lost them both;

He's planted lots of tulip bulbs,
And many Daffodils,
He's got a Plethora of plants,
On all his windowsills;
He's never short of Gardening Tips,
And has a compost heap,
And when he goes to Wilkinson's,
He gets plants on the cheap;

His greenhouse isn't all that green
It's more a stately manor,
He once attacked a Chestnut tree,
With loppers and a Hammer;
And all his Rhododendrons,
Have a blue-ish glow,
He had an affair with Fred Astaire,
And his mother was a hoe! ;

I've been afraid of darkness,
Since I was only three,
And scared of Monty's garden,
Since he asked me around for tea;
He sat out on the patio,
Surrounded by his plants,
He had a strange mysterious worm,
Emerging from his pants;

He said he'd cultivated it,
And fed it twice a week,
It grew so fast with Miracle Gro,
That he could hardly speak;
He tried his best to tie it up,
But nothing stopped it spreading,
I guess it's not the sort of thing
You use for summer bedding;

I'm now afraid of Gardener's world,
It's got a twisted Host,
His Latin names for everything,
Are what scares me the most;
He keeps a Helianthemum,
Next to his Hiscussparcus,
He has a small herb garden,
Which he uses just for starters;

I won't be tuning in again,
That is my solemn pledge,
The thought of Monty naked,
Almost pushed me to the Hedge.