Mower Woman

I am a mower woman

Slave to the long green lawn

Pushing o’er the rising grass

That grows from dusk to dawn

 

I perch upon a ride-on

Cruise back and forth in rows

Fuelled up and turning zero

While the grass it grows and grows

 

Decked out with ear protection

Favourite hat and glove in hand

I buckle firmly in the seat

To navigate the land

 

I keep an eye on maggie

I circle round the tree

I dodge the scary hilltop

And avoid the rocky scree

 

At sundown when the job is done

I boast a hard-earned thirst

I wipe a brow of sweat and grime

To admire the fresh mown turf