The Garden Gnome

THE GARDEN GNOME

Based on the 1997 incidents surrounding the Society for the Liberation of Garden Gnomes in Germany and France
Note: This poem has a German version Der Gartenzwerg

There stood a little garden gnome and held a blue umbrella
He looked so truly speechless, still, the tiny plastic fellow
The sky so blue, the flowers bloomed, what else was there in living
A decorative landscape fool whose toil in life was giving
A scenic view, a cheerful grin, in any kind of weather
Throughout the year, the elfin-kin brought many garden pleasures
To children and to summer guests and many garden parties
He stood quite stoically at rest and seemed so strong and hardy
Though yawning, this was not allowed, nor scratching nasty itchings
Nor when the dog would lift its leg, was there a cause for twitching
And so he stood there day and night and watched the seasons changing
The bleaching plastic was his plight but else there was no aging
He watched the birds up in the trees and squirrels who build their nesting
He heard the songs upon the breeze as he just stood there – resting
And thus serenely waned the years in garden bliss and shading
Until there came in nighttime drear, a troop of men a-raiding
They stuffed the little garden gnome complete with his umbrella
Inside a hefty burlap sack, then took the tiny fellow
Inside the forest deep and black until they reached a clearing
Where other gnomes stood quite in shock, so sad yet so endearing
A team of pixies, brownies, dwarfs, of munchkins, elves and midgets
Who didn’t greet the garden gnome but simply stood there – ridged
As they were sorted one by one in rows in full formation
The plastic legions came to rest and – took a prompt vacation
And so they stood as morning dawned and deer folk looked astounded
A skunk, a bear, a little fawn they all were quite dumb founded
They smelled the stinking plastic hoard and saw their strange demeanor
The tiny tools of every sort which couldn’t have looked cleaner
The garden gnomes stood pair by pair, within their new surrounding
And sampled of the atmosphere which none found too astounding
They waited thus in perfect rows – no words, no songs, no cheering
When a policeman came to know the secret of the clearing
He called for backup and exclaimed “The tortured gnomes need saving”
Then they were rescued one by one – the local press stood raving
As gently, tucked away in crates, the gnomes were all collected
And once more found in garden bliss, that they were well respected;)