Body shaking,
Back is aching
From my skin is leaking sweat.
And I know
As poems go
This isn't quite what you'd expect.
But having fun
On potato run,
And digging them o'er and o'er.
Looking for pots,
And digging up rocks,
Is the potato hoer.
Twilight here
And darkness near
Trying to hunt the gold.
Striking a patch
Finding them match
Wishing I didn't feel old!
Lift a glass
Toast the last
Potatoes homegrown this year.
Gathering in,
For Christmas din,
More precious than gold, they're here.
:D
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