My Pocket Farmer

Tiny as a breathless wind
Graceful as her smile 
Backdrop to grit and grin
Faithful to the last mile 

Lefthanded her pose
An argument she wins
Because of all she knows 
If held together by pins

A baker's best friend
And garden General
Woman through and through 
With virtue central

One pocket over the heart
A space packed with her 
Never mind my every start
Right brain whisper in right ear

Soft and cuddlely 
Kind and true
Never wobblely 
Of the billions, she but few