Polytunnel

Out the gate

And up the lane

The allotment is calling again

I'm there nearly every day

It's my happy place

And when I'm on my hands and knees

Ears filled with crow speak

And buzzing bumble bees

The nasturtiums sway

And worry slips away

Pulling up the turnips

Thinning down the carrots and leeks

Tying on the sweet peas

Pruning back the branches of the pear tree

Mucking out the chickens

Repairing a puncture in the polytunnel

It's Karen who was always the green-fingered one

I don't really know what I am doing

Would you like another cuppa?

Could you manage a slice of toast?

Or a little bit of soup, my flower?

Out the gate and up the lane

The allotment is calling again

Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah

Pottering in the shed

Building a new raised bed for spuds

Sowing beets and broad beans

Waging war on nettles and bindweed

Taking in the sunset

Repairing a puncture in the polytunnel

In the polytunnel