An Old Gardener’s Knees

Each week we publish a reader’s poem about a favourite plant or gardening experience – this week, find out why Brian has to end his day with a hot toddy

I’ve been down here since half-past nine And now it’s ten-past two.

My knees have ‘gone’, both left and right. I’m not sure what to do.

I’ve weeded and dead-headed, Raked and staked and sown.

And though I’m not complaining,

It’s a big job on your own.

Getting down was easy,

A gentle dip and drop.

But getting up’s a different trick, Without a stick or prop.

“Where was your mobile phone, Dad?” I can hear the kids get shirty.

Well it’s on the kitchen table,

I don’t like to get it dirty.

I shouted Mrs. Eckersley

Who lives next door to me,

The only drawback being is

She’s deaf and ninety-three.

I need someone with muscle,

Like Edna from “The Bell”.

She’d have me up in no time

And make my tea as well.

I’ve said a prayer to Mary,

It’s times like this ...... you know.

“You silly fool”, I’d hear her say.

...... I miss my old girl so.

The cat’s been by to see me – twice! But scornful of my fate,

He only came to ask me

As to why his dinner’s late.

Hey up! Here’s the postman.

Late, but never mind.

“Can you lend a hand here lad? Thanks, that’s very kind”.

“I’m ok, I’ll be fine now

I can move well now I’m up.

I’ll go and put the kettle on, Perhaps you’ll have a cup?”.

Nearly bedtime now, thanks be. Knees warm with embrocation.

Some brandy in my cocoa, “Internal Lubrication!”.

Brian Cottingham