Millions spent to Find a Cure,
for Ills that Make our Life Unsure.
The Scientists their Smarts they Guard,
the Simple Cure is in my Yard.
They tell Us we are In a Drought,
but Weeds already Start to Sprout.
I dig Them – spray Them – even Swear,
but They still Spring up Everywhere!
Throw out Test Tubes – use Instead,
weeds ‘round Here I can’t get Dead.
Perhaps the Secrets – have to Say,
lie in My weeds’ DNA?