Monday, May 13, 2013

A humerous gardening poem

I think this poem must have been written back in the day.  

She dug the plot on Monday,
The soil was rich and fine.
She forgot to thaw out dinner,
So we went out to dine.
She planted roses Tuesday,
She says they are a must.
They really are quite lovely
But she quite forgot to dust.
On Wednesday it was daisies,
They opened up with sun,
All whites and pinks and yellows,
But the laundry wasn't done.
The poppies came on Thursday,
A bright and cherry red.
I guess she really was engrossed,
She never made the bed.
It was violets on Friday
In colors she adores.
It never bothered her at all
All the crumbs upon the floors.
I hired a maid on Saturday,
My week is now complete.
My wife can garden all she wants,
The house will still be neat!
It's nearly lunchtime Sunday
And I cannot find the maid.
Oh no, I don't believe it!
She's out there WITH THE SPADE!

~Author Unknown~