tagNon-Erotic PoetryBehind a tin-foiled window

Behind a tin-foiled window

byUnderYourSpell©

Ageing hands tend frond and fern
caring for each plant in turn,
sings is happy as she goes
thinks about how much she'll earn.

Glad with what nobody knows
just her secret what she grows,
a little hobby on the side
ekes out pension buys her bows.

A gardener's life now applied
she takes rebellion in her stride,
a busy basement gone to pot
the growing market is worldwide.

On raised beds, she doesn't squat,
arthritis rules her joints are shot,
a little smoke will ease the pain
dried fronded plants hits the spot.

Some turn for help from malted grain
but not the drink for our Elaine,
sets out to grow and then to burn
this crop she tends in her domain.

Poetry Survivor
Rubaiyat Quatrain Trigger 36

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