Gardening poems for National Poetry Day

[Emily Peagram]

Hi everyone

I've been getting into the spirit of National Poetry Day and decided to write a GYO-themed poem!

Growing veg is our biggest passion,
and will never go out of fashion.
Fresh tomatoes, carrots, apples sweet to the core,
who could really ask for more?
So get out on the plot,
we'll show you what's what,
and you'll be enjoying great harvests galore!

I know some of you enjoy a good rhyme or two, so if you can think of a gardening poem to share then I'd love to read it!

[1Bee]

Mud, mud, glorious mud
Nothing quite like it for cooling the blood
So follow me follow, down to the hollow
And there let me wallow in glorious mud...

(Flanders and Swann)

[1Bee]

A young maid dug spuds in a garden,
And her neighbours helped out with a hard 'un.
For the helpful old folks,
She grew artichokes.
Now they spend all their time saying pardon.

[veggiechicken]

If I had the time
I'd pen you a rhyme,
But, begging your pardon,
I've work in the garden.

For while there is sun,
I'm having fun
Clearing the weeds,
And sowing some seeds.

I'm still picking beans
And various greens,
Tomatoes are great
Set out on my plate,
You'll have many a feed
From a packet of seed,

So I really must go,
I've broad beans to sow
After dark, when I've time
I'll pen you a rhyme

[mothhawk]

I used to love my garden
But now my love is dead,
For I found a batchelor's button
In black-eyed Susan's bed.

[Lumpy]

The slug it ate a lettuce,
The snail it ate a beet,
Rather wonderful don't you think,
As they don't have any feet.

Boom Boom

[Guest]

The slug it ate a lettuce,
The snail it ate a beet,
Rather wonderful don't you think,
As they don't have any feet.

Boom Boom

Don't you mean......

The slug it ate a lettuce,
The snail it ate a beet,
Don't you think it's wonderful,
As they squish under ya feet.

Yes I am mean, I will go now

[Greenleaves]

In winter I take great care
Not to leave my soil bare
I never walk on wet beds
So there nice and open
For my spring sown veg

In spring the days grow in length
Extra time on the allotment is always spent
Shoots from my potatoes is such a sight
Lifted and eaten before the blight



I will leave summer and autumn to someone else

[mothhawk]

Green Fly by Reginald Arkell

Of every single garden pest,
I think I hate the green fly best
My hate for him is stern and strong:
I've hated him both loud and long.
Since I first met him in the Spring
I've hated him like anything.

There was one green fly, I recall:
I hated him the most of all.
He sat upon my finest rose,
And put his finger to his nose.
Then sneered, and turned away his head
To bite my rose of royal red.

Next day I noticed, with alarm,
That he had started out to charm
A lady fly, as green in hue
As all the grass that ever grew.
He wooed, he won: she named the night -
And gave my rose another bite.

Ye gods, quoth I, if this goes on,
Before another week has gone,
These two will propagate their kind
Until one morning I will find
A million green fly on my roses,
All with their fingers to their noses.

I made a fire, I stoked it hot
With all the rubbish I had got:
I picked the rose of royal red
Which should have been their bridal bed;
And on the day they twain were mated
They also were incinerated.

[noviceveggrower]

Mine is a poem/song

There's a worm at the bottom of the garden
but his name isn't Wiggly Woo.
There's a worm at the bottom of the garden
and he like to wiggle in cow poo.

He wiggles here, he wiggles there
He wiggles, wiggles everywhere.

There's a worm at the bottom of the garden
and his name is Stu

[Jungle Jane]

A Ladybirds Prayer to the Gardener
Let us give thanks for the aphids,
Without them we'd have nothing to eat
I'll share them with you,you may squash a few,
And occasionally some days we shall meet.

[1Bee]

In summer it's, "wow, hold the phone!
"I cannot believe how it's grown!"
With beans, greens and squashes
I fill my galoshes
For I left my poor basket at home.

The autumn's the season for fruits,
Though the crawlies are absolute brutes.
Caterpillars are munching,
On my PSB lunching,
And I swear that that slug's in cahoots!

All joking aside, it is bliss
To work in the garden like this.
I know nothing better,
In fair or fowl weather,
Than knowing the sun and earth's kiss.

[1Bee]

*Slaps forehead*

Fowl.

Meant to be foul, obviously.... *eyeroll*

[veggiechicken]

Nothing wrong with being a fowl - or a fool