These Weeds by Gary Bertnick 

These weeds always nearSomehow sprout up

Never planted, but always there;

Diligence reaches out

Perseverance pulls them out by the roots

Endurance tosses them onto the trash pile

New strength burns them with “Holy Fire”:

Weeds as dark, pesky spirit flies

Or gnats that seek to ruin

Spoil at any picnic,

Like deer flies that annoy at the lake!

The garden is finally cleansed,

Daily the garden is watched over

Guarded carefully

Alert eyes and quickened hands,

Nothing impure is sprinkled about or sprayed,

And the garden is kept truly clean!

Only what really belongs is left

What does not belong is tossed out

And remains far outside,

Gone from what the heart of the true gardener embraces.