Grown cabbage, cauli, carrots, peas, beans,
Rich red tomatoes, the reddest ever seen.
Many others about which we like to boast.
Happy health-filled veges really are the most.
Also grown a family of three kids that we adore,
Only had three bedrooms; no room for anymore.
Like flowers in a garden given water they did grow,
They're friends, home-grown pleasure that we know.
Nothing that we'd change, not trying to brag.
Life is wonderful with great tucker in the bag.
Anticipating, awaiting another artist's dawn,
Looking out upon I should have mown lawn.
Heaps of jobs yet to do, why do they intrude?
Unnecessary interruptions, ever changing mood.
Our little bit of paradise, freehold in twilight years.
Worked for with a purpose, love sweat and tears.
Would not change anything, everything is fine,
Our children, our grandkids, most of all our time.
Earned by countless hours of reason and rhyme,
Many deep-seated memories, memories sublime.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem