Poems From the Potting Shed

by Lynne Roberts

Poems From the Potting Shed

  By Lynne Roberts

  Copyright 2014 Lynne Roberts

  ISBN 978-1-927241-26-4

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  Contents

  50 Shades of Spray

  A Cautionary Tale

  A Fairy Tale

  A Little List

  A Lot of Bull

  A Stressful Time

  Blooming Cheek

  Chain Reaction

  Christmas

  Confessions of a Gardener

  Daybreak

  Easter Weekend

  Entertaining

  Fertilizer

  From the Passenger Seat

  Gnomeless

  Gwyther’s Garden

  Herbal Days

  Hoe Down

  In Haste

  In Reply to Clare

  Insects

  Life Cycle

  Daisies Daisies

  Mary Mary

  Dilly Dilly

  Green Grows the Nightshade-O

  Many a Mickle Makes a Muckle

  Matter of Fact

  My Favourite Things

  Names

  Nellie the Puppy

  On a Budget

  Running Out

  Overheard at a Nursery

  Potty

  Proposal in a Chinese garden

  Roses

  Super Zespri Man

  The Bus Trip

  The Elements

  The First Day of Springtime

  The Fishpond

  The Friendship Garden

  The Green Growers’ Blues

  The Help Line

  The Orchardist’s Lament

  Three Tier Farming

  What Will the Matter Be?

  Wintertime

  50 Shades of Spray

  I’m really not the kind of girl

  Who’s into kinky stuff

  Although I’ve done my share

  Of skinny dipping in the buff

  But when it comes to bondage

  Or things that cause me pain

  If you think that I’ll submit

  Then I suggest you think again

  I do like lots of money, though

  And wish I’d had the luck

  To write a squillion selling book

  And pocket all the bucks

  They say the sales of riding crops

  Can’t keep up with demand

  From those dominating dudes

  Who like to dictate and command

  So here is my suggestion

  To improve your orchard gains

  Go sharpen up your secateurs

  And sell off all the canes

  A Cautionary Tale

  Upon one dark and stormy night when all good souls were sleeping

  An opportunist thief around the orchard shed came creeping

  He’d stripped the avocado trees of all the fruit in reach

  And now he gently eased the bolt in case the door should creak

  A four wheel drive was neatly parked, a tractor snug beside

  ‘The fool has even left the keys,’ the sneering burglar cried

  He quickly tossed the bags of avocados in the tray

  And chuckled to himself as he prepared to drive away

  Annoyed, the thief discovered that the driver’s door was stuck

  So he crawled in through the window on the far side of the truck

  He rapidly became entangled in a heap of wires

  With loops of alkathene and clips and pruning shears and pliers

  At last, upon the driver’s seat, he sat and turned the key

  As a cloud of evil smoke billowed up between his knees

  He coughed and spluttered as with grinding screech he changed the gear

  As he reversed he checked to see the way behind was clear

  All he saw was duct tape where the mirrors had been cracked

  His foot went through a rusty patch as from the shed he backed

  The thief drove out upon the road and noticed with a sigh

  The fuel gauge sat on Empty while the temperature said High

  From the seat behind him came a sudden rumbling growl

  As Bess the guard dog did her stuff; the thief let out a howl

  He staggered down the road with Bess in hot pursuit behind

  And vowed to make some easy cash, another way he’d find

  He left the avocados that he’d taken from the tree

  By the state of that old ute the farmer needs them more than me!

  A Fairy Tale

  Sleeping Beauty lay bewitched

  Behind a wall of thorns

  Until a handsome prince kissed her awake

  One sparkling morn

  This has to be a fairy tale

  Let’s put the matter straight

  About that young and handsome prince

  And Sleeping Beauty’s fate

  Imagine ranks of climbing roses

  Sprawling out of reach

  That wall of thorns for starters

  Would take a week to breach

  Without strong gloves and secataurs

  He wouldn’t have a hope

  But with a shining sword in hand

  That has to be a joke

  Scratched and bleeding

  Clothing ripped and torn, a sorry sight

  He’d stagger slowly homewards

  As the day turned into night

  No gentle kiss to wake his miss

  Instead he’d sigh and groan

  Collapse upon his welcome bed

  And spend the night alone

  When morning came he’d stretch and yawn

  And view the wall anew

  No gardener he, no joy to see

  Those thorns bedecked with dew

  Instead he’d ride away to find

  Another maiden fair

  While Sleeping Beauty slumbered on

  He’d climb Rapunzel’s hair!

  A Little List

  The kiwifruit is harvested and now I can't resist

  The opportunity to sit and make a little list

  Of people I can't tolerate and things that really irritate

  I've put them on my list

  Yes, they all are on my list

  There's the young man on the telly who predicts a hurricane

  And the pickers who don't show for work, or if they do, complain

  And the blokes who drive the tractors in a frenzy quite insane

  I've put them on my list

  Yes, they all are on my list

  There's the forklift driver terrorizing all on his terrain

  The guy with Early Start who celebrates it with champagne

  And the pack shed guy who calls a halt to picking once again

  I've put them on my list

  Yes, they all are on my list

  There's the contractor who's too flat out to spray my fruit for stain

  And the testers who take fruit from darned near every single cane

  And the marketers who make rules they're unable to explain

  I've put them on my list

  Yes, they all are on my list

  Do other growers find the harvest season such a pain?

  We work like dogs and at the end what do we really gain?

  I'm off to start the winter prune despite the driving rain


  And the early morning mist

  Though I'd rather go get a cup of tea!

  A Lot of Bull

  The freezer was empty, we needed some meat

  So we chose the best beast that we wanted to eat

  On Wednesday the butcher arrived at the shed

  Got out of his truck with his gun and he said

  I’ll try for a shot. He reached for his gun

  The bull took one look and started to run

  He ran round the paddock, the men giving chase

  Yelling and cursing and red in the face

  They sprinted through fences, they jumped over logs

  Sweating and swearing and panting like dogs

  The bull at last cornered they thankfully stopped

  As the butcher reached down for the gun he had dropped

  And as he took aim with the bull standing still

  The wretched beast leaped one more time down the hill

  I’ll stop it, called David and started to run

  As a sharp crack ran out from the butcher’s big gun

  Like Lomu, his hero, with one mighty shove

  He pushed at the bull on the hillside above

  Alas, David tripped and he fell with a splat

  With the bull right on top of him squashing him flat

  The butcher, his boy, the farm worker as well

  All ran to the place where the mighty bull fell

  Pulling it off with a heave and a groan

  They then turned to David who started to moan

  Lynne to the rescue arrived with a truck

  Put it into reverse on the track where it stuck

  Clary the neighbour was next to appear

  He leapt in the truck and he put it in gear

  They raced to the doctor, the ambulance came

  David said bravely ‘There isn’t much pain

  The only thing is that my leg’s very sore

  Where they hit it while opening the ambulance door.

  Many hours later with x-rays and such

  They fitted him up with a cast and a crutch

  Do not try walking around yet, they said.

  We’ll let you go home if you go straight to bed.

  So pass me a glass and make sure that it’s full

  Help me to drink to this great load of bull

  A Stressful Time

  I have so much to do I thought I’d better make a list

  Of all the jobs at harvest time that just cannot be missed

  First a phone call to the pack shed – will the bins be here today?

  Another to the contractor to organise the spray

  I must get staples for my gun and packs of gloves and hats

  I’ll get the wife to clean the toilet – I’m not doing that!

  I’ll diesel up the tractor and hitch up the trailers too

  And fill the disinfectant sprays for all the workers’ shoes

  I’d better grease the forklift and haul