‘Pick Your Own’…I’ve often wondered about that line
When I see the announcement on a roadside sign.
It seems somehow rude, like ‘shut-up’ or ‘bum’
But then my sons often say “you’re too sensitive mum”.
But it does seem quite stark, telling you what you should do,
But I cannot deny I’m the first in the queue
When it comes time for picking my own fresh produce,
I get myself in there, in the thick of the bush;
Oi! That’s my punnet, move over mush!
My etiquette gone, I search for the best,
The reddest, the fattest, and of course juiciest.
And searching for raspberries, there’s no holding back,
Reaching and grabbing, rummage and hoard
‘til I’ve filled up my punnet, my arms scratched and sore.
Then triumphant I land my huge catch with aplomb,
But discover my wallet’s at home…Oh bum!