The Good (Allotment) Life (or a tale of how
NOT to grow your own)
I’ll tell you all a
cautionary tale,
If you’ll just give me some
pardon,
Of how I dug out an
allotment,
Down at the end of my garden.
The patch was all covered in
weeds,
And at first I started to
panic,
But you can’t let things
stand in your way,
If you’re set on a life more
organic.
So I rotavated and weeded and
dug,
And laid the jungle all to a
waste.
All this in pursuit of some
veggies,
And produce superior of
taste.
The effort I put in was
enormous,
What with much raking &
tilling.
Every day I was quite
knackered,
But I found it strangely
fulfilling.
And when I’d got it laid out
quite flat,
There was still the marking
& hoeing.
There seemed so much I’d
still got to do,
And I hadn’t even started the
sowing.
Then it all had to be
fertilised:
Compost, manure, whatever you
call it -
But the man on the farm where
I went,
Just said I should call it
horse-shit.
I carried it and tipped it
onto the patch;
I dug it all in and then sat.
Only to discover I’d created
a toilet,
Mostly for the use of our
cat.
So I raked it all over once
more,
And then had to do some light
weeding.
Then, at last, after weeks of
effort,
I finally got to the seeding.
Beetroot, pumpkins and
potatoes:
I went at it quite maddish.
Courgettes & beans all in
a row,
And in the corner – some
radish.
I planted out carrots,
potatoes & peas,
Some caulis, cabbage and kale,
And I looked out on it so
proudly -
How could it possibly fail?
I soon found out there were
problems:
For as soon as I’d worked off
my nadgers,
The beautiful crops that were
growing,
Had just become fast food for
the badgers.
The crops were under attack
night & day,
Although I was clean in my
habits.
For as soon as the lettuces
came up,
It was feeding time for the
rabbits.
Pigeons, mice and slugs all
attacked me:
I tried to drive out their
tails,
But they all seemed to get
past me,
To say nothing of
squash-eating snails.
I ranted & raved in
frustration,
And scared them away with my
shouts.
Well – you have to do
something,
If you’re going to hang on to
your sprouts.
Bad weather then came down
upon me,
As I struggled with every
means.
It’s a lot of effort to go to,
Just so I can freshly eat
beans.
But now I’ve got my freezer
full,
After working and busting my
gut,
For after the initial famine,
I find I’m now facing a glut.
So I’d just like to say in my
summary,
It’s very well trying to live
The Good Life.
But there must be easier ways
to get by,
Than feeding all of the local
wild-life.
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