The Allotment by Elizabeth Henry

There is a patch of land nearby,

That’s verdurous, lush and green,

Where faithful natives go to sow

Their brassicas and beans.

 

They visit daily with their tools –

A shovel and a hoe –

And did and till and cultivate

So vegetables will grow.

 

Each lant has been assigned a plot,

With labels bright and clear,

Providing tasty eatables

That sate throughout the year.

 

A glut of parsnips, chard and peas,

All plentiful and ripe,

As well as swedes and cabbages

And peppers with a stripe.

 

An obelisk of willow sticks

Stands tall and thin and proud.

Upon it runners, fat and long,

And flowers, gay and loud.

 

A green house, with some grimy glass,

Sits near the potting shed,

Beside a glut of raspberries

And a vibrant strawberry bed.

 

Fecund and flush all summer long,

Productive, fruitful, full.

Preserve its goodness while you can

To feed you through the lull.