To My Darling Husband (and all the other garden widowers)

You are not alone.
I read this in No Dig Garden Blog and just had to pass it on. I'm thinking my husband must have written this, even though his name is not Peter and I'm not sure he knows anything about poetry.

My Wife the Gardener

~ Peter (poem found in old magazine)

She dug the plot on Monday –
the soil was rich and fine,
She forgot to thaw out dinner –
so we went out to dine...
She planted roses Tuesday –
she says they are a must,
They really are quite lovely
but she quite forgot to dust.
On Wednesday it was daisies –
they opened up with sun,
All whites and pinks and yellows –
but the laundry wasn’t done...
The poppies came on Thursday -
a bright and cherry red,
I guess she really was engrossed –
she never made the bed...
It was violets on Friday –
in colours she adores,
It never bothered her at all –
all crumbs upon the floors
I hired a maid on Saturday –
my week is now complete,
My wife can garden all she wants –
the house will still be neat!
It’s nearly lunchtime Sunday –
and I cannot find the maid,
Oh no! I don’t believe it!
She’s out there WITH THE SPADE!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~