Garden of guns

Hap Happening lapsided holster.
That hoe and fork gives the trigger finger blisters.
In his lap a shotgun as he stroked the flowers with his fat fingers.
The scent of sage and gunsmoke lingers.
When the lightening falls and thunder cracks simultaneously.
You´re hit like the bullet your enemy gave flight too shamelessly.
The thudding of some tenacious assault rifle in the fields.
Our lust for arms like a noxious ivy that never yields.
The pistols pollenated and cocked.
Your kids trying to pick your gun case lock.
Life seems so precious why are we growing this garden of guns.
I guess we need the fertilizer and gunpowder for so many tonnes of pretty bombs.
But when they blossom on our loved ones, we´ll be planting new ones before too long.