A Children's Story

Gardening with my Grandson

Magnus and I prepare
for spring's first planting.
I, with my garden shoes,
trowel, compost and seeds,
Magnus, dressed in black,
a belt tied around waist
with a light saber in holster;
he carries another in hand.
I turn soil, dig in compost.
Magnus leaps out suddenly
from behind a grove of trees,
scales a large rock, wields saber,
fends off an unseen foe.
I make careful rows,
drop in seeds, one by one.
Magnus twirls both sabers,
like batons, holds back
hordes of invisible invaders.
I finish, pat down soil, stand;
we exchange satisfied looks.
No alien storm troopers will
be hiding in these radishes.