Potty Shed
A potty shed? That’s what she said;
Connects the head to the flower bed.
Tomatoes are the best around,
And that soil is nice and brown.
Come on in and have a seat;
Squash is waiting for a treat.
Beans are sprouting in a rush;
There’s ten more since the last big flush.
Sell it down at the market square.
I ain’t eating; au contraire!
Potting shed? What you said?
Now my ears are burning red.
Copyright © Jeff Kyser | Year Posted 2022
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