Polytunnel

Out the gate, and up the lane The allotment is calling again I'm there nearly every day It's my happy place And when I'm on my hands and knees Ears filled with crow speak And buzzing bumblebees The nasturtiums sway And worry slips away Pulling up the turnips Thinning down the carrots and leeks Tying on the sweet peas Pruning back the branches of the pear tree Mucking out the chickens Repairing a puncture in the polytunnel It's Karen who was always the green-fingered one I don't really know what I am doing Would you like another cuppa? Could you manage a slice of toast? Or a little bit of soup, my flower? Out the gate and up the lane The allotment is calling again Ah-ah-ah, ah-ah-ah Ah-ah-ah, ah-ah-ah Pottering in the shed Building a new raised bed for spuds Sowing beets and broad beans Waging war on nettles and bindweed Taking in the sunset Repairing a puncture in the polytunnel In the polytunnel