Gardeners World is a classic show
About plants and
shrubs, you can grow
Lady Gardeners World
however
Is about tidying up Ladies
nethers
Gardeners World is a classic show
About plants and
shrubs, you can grow
Lady Gardeners World
however
Is about tidying up Ladies
nethers
I heard a very apt description
Of Gardening the other
day
It suggested that
Gardening was
Grown-ups going
outside to play
I heard a very apt description
Of Gardening the other
day
It suggested that
Gardening was
Grown-ups going
outside to play
Apparently, a good compost heap should
Get hot enough to
poach an egg on it,
But not so hot it
would cook a lobster
Well poached or not I
am not eating it
I'm a gardener and I'm ok
I sleep in the allotment
shed all day
I dress in comfy
clothing,
That my wife would
throw away
Oh I'm happy on the
allotment
As I’m not in her way
(Sung to the tune of Monty Python's “I'm a Lumberjack”)
The difference between
Weeds and flowers
Is without a doubt
That the garden weeds
Are the most difficult
By far to pull out
A weed is a plant that has simply mastered
Every survival skill
in the way it grows
But with all its hardy
guile and cunning
They haven’t yet
learned to grow in rows
I’m a really rubbish gardener
I find it all a bit of
a chore
If only I was better
outside
At simple horticulture
And grow stuff in the
garden
Like I do in the
refrigerator
To garden effectively, firstly, put on a hat
But be very careful, and
choose the right one
Straw preferably, and
it should have a
Wide brim to protect
you from the sun
Some old clothes, but
nothing too scruffy
It should be a stylish
yet practical rig
And with a hoe in one
hand and a cold drink
In the other, tell
somebody else where to dig
To a gardener,
A grassed over area
Is just a flowerbed
That has yet to appear
My grandfather became such
A successful bonsai
grower
He had to move to a
house
Where the garden was
smaller
If you can’t tell the difference
Between a plant and
weed
Then learn by pulling
one up
That’s the best way to
proceed
And if it comes out
quite easily
Then the other one is
the weed
When I had my very first garden
It filled me with absolute
terror
I didn’t have any
experience
But I learnt by trowel
and error
My gardener has OCD
His herb beds are
alphabetized
I asked how he found
the time
“It’s next to the
Sage” he replied
My granddads greatest pleasure
Was his allotment
So, in his will he
instructed
His son Peter
To sprinkle his ashes
Over the beloved plot
Lightly forking them
in
At one ounce per
square metre
My uncle grows veg
Not for eating though
He is after prizes
At the garden show
Every waking hour
He nurtures and nurses
Mixing up solutions
As he coaxes and
coerces
Enormous Marrows
Giant Asparagus
Towering Celery
And humungous fungus
I went to my veg plot to check
On my tender little
darlings
And heartbreakingly I
found
Decimation of my
seedlings
The perpetrators are
self-evident
By the tell-tale slimy
slug ooze
And I could tell they
had help
Due to the clearly visible
Snail trail
I found the topsoil two inches deeper
When I went to my
allotment on Monday
I found the topsoil
two inches deeper
When I went to the
allotment on Tuesday
The next day as I
approached my plot
My poor old heartbeat
quickens
So, when the topsoil
was two inches deeper
I could only say “The
plot thickens”
What sacks should I use?
In the garden?
Should I use plastic?
Or maybe Hessian?
I’m not sure I care
To be quite factual
I suppose it’s because
I am bi-sacksual
I have found keeping a vegetable garden
Of
potatoes cabbages and dills
Is
without any doubt at all
Worth
a medicine cabinet full of pills