Allotment poems

allotment garden poems

The Garden

D. Titchenell

Allotment or community
Such gardens are, where e’er they be
But plot or glebe of fecund soil
Which yields when blessed with simple toil
A trove of carrots, chard and beets
And pristine veggies that one eats
Commensurate with what was sown
When we have nurtured on our own
A crop without the toxic sprays
That taint the food for which one pays.
But can a garden so conceived
Survive without support received
From state or county? – possibly
We’ll do our best, but we shall see …

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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