The Organic Farmer's Nightmare
His plants are green. He's full of bliss.
Compost is turned. Nothing's amiss.
When a moldy blight
wilts the crop overnight,
he dreams of a fungicide mist.
His plants are green. He's full of bliss.
Compost is turned. Nothing's amiss.
When a moldy blight
wilts the crop overnight,
he dreams of a fungicide mist.
Happy groundhog day dear readers! Today's limerick was written for an organic farmer, my son-in-law. I hope that it did not really give him nightmares.
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