We still need our garden, It’s so hard to resist, But are plagued with arthritis In our hands and wrists.
It is time for some help And we’re sure you’ll agree. So please meet our ‘friend’, We call him Digby.
He weeds the big onion beds And digs up the tatties, Waters the cabbages And sees off the ratties.
He dead-heads the roses With little ado And chops up some carrots To go in the stew.
He prunes the sweet plum trees And mulches the peach And harvests the ripe figs Outside of our reach.
He can sharpen our loppers And all of our shears. So “Listen up young Diggers. Zip back those ears!”
Digby was built with soil In his circuitry He’s our contracted ‘friend’ In perpetuity. Jack Kerr Green Lane