Eulogy to an old pair of boots

(....written in free prose because I ain't no Thomas Gray...)

I must have bought them 15 years ago, at the time my daughter got her five year old legs together and strong enough for us to explore the paths around our village, making our own song lines and dreaming tracks. 

They've hundreds of beautiful and memorable miles in them.  

Whatever was good for the Duke of Wellington is good enough for me.

The sole of the left boot has given up and I came home with a wet foot. 

But these boots have their own souls.  They need a respectful send off.  Cremation is out of the question.  Burning rubber would have the pollution police here in an instant, and rightly so.  

I'm going to drill holes in the soles, fill them with earth and plant tomatoes in them.

That said, I'm not sure I'd want to eat the tomatoes grown in my boots. Geraniums maybe...

Any suggestions would be gratefully received.