Garden Gnome Hallucinations

​I see him when I wake ​The tip of his little, devilish blue hat ​And what a stupid hat it is ​So pointy, and silly, and filled with hatred

​I see him when I close my eyes ​The wicked smile, the shaking shovel in his tiny, wrinkled hands

​I see him dig, dig, dig in the fields ​He wants to push me in ​He wants to bury me under rocks and soil

​I won't let him win, that fiend. That grave he digs in my smallest field will be his own tomb! And then when he is gone, I can finally sleep again, sleep tight, so tight, and no one will call me loopy no more