My Wife the Gardener: Silly garden poem

I found this poem awhile back and had to chuckle because it sums up the life of a Gardener's Husband (or spouse).  Pass this on to the garden widow in your family.

My Wife the Gardener

~ Peter (poem in old magazine)

She dug the plot on Monday –
the soil was rich and fine,
She forgot to thaw out dinner –
so we went out to dine...
She planted roses Tuesday –
she says they are a must,
They really are quite lovely
but she quite forgot to dust.
On Wednesday it was daisies –
they opened up with sun,
All whites and pinks and yellows –
but the laundry wasn’t done...
The poppies came on Thursday -
a bright and cherry red,
I guess she really was engrossed –
she never made the bed...
It was violets on Friday –
in colours she adores,
It never bothered her at all –
all crumbs upon the floors
I hired a maid on Saturday –
my week is now complete,
My wife can garden all she wants –
the house will still be neat!
It’s nearly lunchtime Sunday –
and I cannot find the maid,
Oh no! I don’t believe it!
She’s out there WITH THE SPADE