out the safety vests
And tell the wife to make the smoko – muffins are the best
Another call to check that my spray diary’s up to date
I’m rushing as I see the pickers driving in the gate
They’re giving me some funny looks, I’m feeling very stressed
I am still in my pyjamas – I’ve forgotten to get dressed!
Blooming Cheek
The kitchen was muddled, the bathroom a mess
There were patches of potting mix spilt on my dress
There was dirt on my hands and twigs in my hair
The grass needed mowing but I didn’t care
There was even green mould on the floor of the shower
But - my Baroness Rothschild was starting to flower
My mailbox was stuffed full with junk mail and bills
There was grime on the windows and dust on the sills
With the carpet disgraceful, the vinyl was worse
A half-eaten sandwich had died in my purse
Wet clothes and bath towels festooned every room
But - Gloire Lyonnnaise had just come into bloom
My husband’s Aunt Millicent came round to tea
She rang to inform me she’d be there at three
She’s old and she’s fussy and house proud to boot
She always finds fault but I don’t give a hoot
The cake tins were empty the milk had gone sour
But - La Reine Victoria started to flower
Aunt Millicent said my house ought to be clean
Not blooming likely, I cried with a scream
On Aphids I’m expert, at pruning I’m great
The merits of compost I’m keen to debate
Than a shiny, scrubbed kitchen or clean tidy floor
I’ll work in the garden for hour after hour
Look – Chapeau De Napoleon’s starting to flower.
Aunt Millicent left with a sigh and a frown
But as she departed she paused and turned round
And furtively glancing behind her she crept
To the shed where the spade and the clippers were kept
Softly on tiptoe she reached to the top
Of Anais Segales and snipped a piece off
Then running from shrub rose to rambler she went
Pausing only to sniff Belle De Crecy’s sweet scent
So the next Spring I went to Aunt Millicent’s place
She was covered in dirt, with a smile on her face
Her house was a mess but she stood in a bower
Of pink Maiden’s Blush - which was starting to flower!
Chain Reaction
We had an ageing pine tree at the corner of the yard
It grew so large it blocked out all our view
My husband said he’d cut it down, it wouldn’t be too hard
There’s nothing that a chainsaw cannot do
We had to fence a paddock and construct another gate
We ordered in some wood and hinges too
My husband said he’d build it, it would be a piece of cake
There’s nothing that a chainsaw cannot do
We liked the new varieties, decided that we’d tender
We filled out forms and quickly joined the queue
As others slaved with knives to graft my husband laughed and said
There’s nothing that a chainsaw cannot do
With all the grafting done we inside to have a meal
I tried to chop a pumpkin for a stew
I couldn’t get the knife in so my husband said he’d help
There’s nothing that a chainsaw cannot do
My husband’s socks had holes in as his toenails grew too long
They stuck out till they pressed upon his shoe
I handed him the scissors but he scoffed at them and said
There’s nothing that a chainsaw cannot do
My husband crawled out to the shed to get a pine tree branch
He set to work with sandpaper and glue
Now he proudly walks around on two stout wooden legs
There’s nothing that a chainsaw cannot do
Christmas
Christmas is coming
I’ve cards to be writing
But it’s such a lovely fine day
David and I will pack up hats and mallets
And go for a game of croquet
Christmas is coming
I’ve cakes to be baking
And puddings and pies to be made
But I’m off with my belly dance ladies to walk
In the local town Christmas parade
Christmas is coming
I’ve presents to wrap
And plates to be painted and fired
But after two parties and walking the donkeys
I think I am now far too tired
I must clean the cobwebs
And vacuum and shake out the mats
They are covered in tinsel that’s come off the tree
The grandchildren helped me with that
Christmas is coming
Each day it gets closer
I thought I had plenty of time
But the time ran away in each long, busy day
So I sat down and wrote down this rhyme
Confessions of a Gardener
The Noxious Weeds Inspector came to visit me last week
For the AGM of Garden Club, we'd asked him here to speak
He proceeded to enlighten us, with photographs of weeds
Of what we should not propagate by cuttings or by seeds
This list of plants was rather long and to my great dismay
Included much of what was in my garden, on display
He started with erigeron, and said, I don't suppose
You knew this was a banned plant when you put in all those rows.
I noticed wandering willy spreading underneath those trees
They're buddlia! By this time I could tell he wasn't pleased
Lantana is a shocking pest, he glowered as he spoke
And when he saw my privet hedge, it nearly made him choke
He glared at the pergola where the morning glory climbs
And nearly had a heart attack at my clematis vine
He frowned at my asparagus and thriving ladder ferns
And tore his hair and shouted, Will you people never learn?
And look, you have five hectares of the biggest weed out there