Nameless forevermore,
Hiding among the worms,
In todays blue bell flower source,
And asking the nearest gresshopper,
"What makes the garden grow?"
"Not you dear nameless,
Nor I nor she, Nor the tallest youngest man,
Whom goes by he".
Nameless forever more,
Slinks along the stones,
And notices slime on the slippy floor,
While asking the nearest fly,
"What makes the garden grow?"
"Not you forever nameless,
But me, myself and I,
for I tend to the garden forever's days,
It being the apple of my eye".
Nameless forever more,
Slinking on the floor,
And wonders in the oaken board,
Which they call the door,
And asks the nearest sandmite,
"What makes the garden grow?"
"Not you poor nameless,
nor is it the fly on the wall,
you see nameless,
tis nothing,
but the sky doing all."
And nameless slunk back to the garden,
Understanding it oh much more,
and settles back down on the ground,
After talking with the mite on the door.
