An Old-fashioned Garden

Strange, is it not? She was making her garden, Planting the old-fashioned flowers that day Bleeding-hearts tender and bachelors-buttons Spreading the seeds in the old-fashioned way. Just in the old fashioned way, too, our quarrel Grew until, angrily, she set me free Planting, indeed, bleeding hearts for the two of us, Ordaining bachelor's buttons for me. Envoi Strange, was it not? But seeds planted in anger Sour in the earth and, ere long, a decay Withered the bleeding hearts, blighted the buttons, And, we were wed, in the old-fashioned way.