Sister Flo, a gardening freak
Had quite a nasty shock last week.
While she was planting silver beet
A small voice cackled at her feet.
‘Hey, droopy-drawers! I’m talking to you!
You’re ugly, big and pimply too!
I’m over here you silly old dill
Down beneath the window sill!
‘How dare you!’ scolded Sister Flo.
‘You cheeky little so-and-so!’
For she had only just found out
The speaker was a Brussels sprout.
‘It said, ‘We’ve business to discuss!
Stop pouring that manure on us!
We don’t enjoy it, not a bit
Would you like getting covered in it?’
A carrot by the garden gate
Said, ‘It’s the smell of it I hate
And while we have a chance to talk
I loathe being yanked up by the stalk.’
And all the vegies had a go
At nagging poor old Sister Flo
When scolded by an artichoke
Her temper well and truly broke.
Potatoes, leeks she dug the lot
And stewed them in her cooking pot
She baked a pastie, golden brown
Said, ‘Serves you right!’ then wolfed it down.
Alas, the vegies got her back
Flo suffered from a wind attack
So noisy was her sorry plight
It kept the neighbours up all night.
Explosions rocked her small abode
Her bathtub landed in the road
A flying sink complete with taps
Made fifteen blocks of flats collapse.
It happened just a week ago
Now things have changed for Sister Flo
When vegies to her rudely speak
She simply turns the other cheek.
~Sister Madge’s Book of Nuns by Doug MacLeod (1986)