A Rather Poor Poem

Perhaps it's not really true But I never feel I quite fit in, in Orange County. I'm happiest in my garden, grubbing in the dirt And my nails tell that story well. I fertilize my garden with bales of alfalfa And large sacks of steer manure Redolent of the pasture and dairy farms. I like to grow fruits and vegetables, Not always very successfully If you had to rely on me You would lose weight. ***** I had an idea for a poem, When I was painting But by the time I cleaned up And found a pen I forgot what it was. I had an idea for a poem While I was awake in the night But in the morning I couldn't remember it.