Menacing Garden

My garden plots my demise Haunts me like a living soul The care I give is appreciated, yet expected Each time I weed takes a toll When it's time to prune All hell breaks loose The clods grow stones to throw and wound The ears of corn hear all that I say They stalk me, following every which way The sly potatoes sprout eyes to spy And the others sharpen their spears to slay. As I sweat with tools through the rows and rows I hear the whispered names they call I know the slang they use , ( crying, "hoe!") Meaning a loose woman and I'm appalled !