...without a fear.
I really don't see the hurt.
They have been in since May this year,
now, what's inside that dirt?
I really don't see the hurt.
They have been in since May this year,
now, what's inside that dirt?
I took off planks and shuffled soil
and, tubers, I should greet.
But low, behold, from sweat and toil,
one spud is all I would meet.
and, tubers, I should greet.
But low, behold, from sweat and toil,
one spud is all I would meet.
Dug in another tier - ignoring thirst
ANOTHER! I almost slipped it!
Almost twice the size of the first,
but a Lima bean could whip it.
ANOTHER! I almost slipped it!
Almost twice the size of the first,
but a Lima bean could whip it.
Two more tiers, a couple more,
anticipation weak,
I have a lot of dirt to store,
but very few spuds to speak.
I have a lot of dirt to store,
but very few spuds to speak.
After clearing all the clean fill
down to the very last slot,
I tore the rest of the wood off still
hoping to hit the spot.
Some larger, and more plenty
I wont be haste to grovel.
Actually got 'bout twenty -
they nearly filled the shovel!
A different variety of spud will be tried next
year. These didn't seem to have enough time
to grow up before the plants died. Good eating
in the Woman's infamous potato-leek soup -
all of them. Within a few hours
of harvest, they were gone.
2 opinionated prattle:
Not many spuds, not to big, not much of a spud farmer but you ae a great poet. Cute poem and likely it filled the void of pain and agony of toiling the soil all season. Anxious to see if "Shanes Spud Patch" resprouts next spring. Saw them hustling and harbvesting pumpkins today, by hand and playing catch with them.
will make a nice little scooby snack
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