Wednesday, November 23, 2005

Ode To My Weed Whacker

Ode To My Weed Whacker

Tis tall the grass that grows,
Where the mower cannot go.
To my trusty shed
I thusly forward tred.

There in the corner it sits
The weed whacker that will not quit
Grab the cords, the power must flow!
And out to the yard we must go!

Spin, vibrate and smack,
Twas a sprinkler head I whacked!
Forward, forward there is more to do
The grass needs to be trimmed true!

Sharp corners do we make
As I ponder getting the rake
I wish this had a bag
But, then my back would sag.

My trusty weed whacker has done the job
In pride I no longer feel a slob!
For my yard is clean and neat
So once again I can take my seat.


Post a Comment

<< Home