Oh, Brickbat Park I name it: The soil is none too grand; But summer flowers inflame it, And sometimes there's a band. I know two tall power-stations Exhale a mort of grit, And constant fumigations From tugs disfigure it. I know how on the lakelet There lies a sooty scum: The cygnet and the drakelet Must find it troublesome. Drawbacks! But there's high-grade work In the allotments, where The plants reward the spadework And help the bill of fare. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE REVEALER by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON DEATH SNIPS PROUD MEN by CARL SANDBURG SACRED ELEGY: 5. THE SEPARATION OF MAN FROM GOD by GEORGE BARKER FRAGMENT by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 37 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH |