'Tis another glorious spring and I planted my garden with the expectation,
That I shall reap a bountiful harvest for my table with minimum frustration!
I planted the usual stuff - carrots, radishes, onions and termaters,
Watermelons, peas, corn, beans and a few hills of russet pertaters.
With the Good Lord's help, lots of sun and occasional showers of rain,
The seeds sprang to life along with some curses that are my infernal bane!
I've discovered that I have a healthy crop of weeds that need attention,
And a host of other intrusive visitors that I'll proceed to mention!
I was dismayed to discover legions of caterpillars and mealy bugs,
Pruning my plants along with hordes of ugly snails and slimy slugs!
They're even being attacked from below by gophers and moles,
And from above by crows making diving sorties from the clothesline poles!
'Coons, 'possums and wabbits at raiding my garden are very deft,
And armies of well-disciplined ants are gleaning what is left!
I even caught some nasty little kids filching a watermelon last night!
I chased them but those little dudes took off with the speed of light!
With a storm of wind and hail this morn I saw all my labor disappear!
Come next spring I think I shall opt to sit on the patio and guzzle beer!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
The name's Ike .
Some a you met me and my wife Jane,
We got us a good life, can't complain.
To the kids, I'm an old geezer round here,
I think it's funny , they don't mean no harm,
I likes ta watch em, and have me a beer,
Work in the yard; Jane calls it my 'lil farm .
I been around a long time,
But ya know, it's still me inside this old shell,
This old body shell is wrinkled and baldin'
gray haired and achin'; I really gave it hell.
Though ya know, inside, ...I'm still really alive!
Funny...I always think I'm about thirty five !
Anyway i'm gettin off track.
Sometimes I gotta find somethin ta git me goin',
so I head out to the yard and start ta hoein'.
Ya see I got me a 'lil garden,
sometimes, I spreads manure in,
...(beggin' your pardon)
You see ,in a special sorta way
each plant needs good care.
Some stay outside 'n grow on the rungs.
Some shoots I wants in the green house,
ta help 'em grow and tend to the young.
Guess them plants is like people,
Some praise God under the sky'
some prays ta Him under a steeple.
This ole garden been through alot.
She been through four hurricanes in her lifetime,
and one year,...a twister just missed her.
I've always liked it out here.
it's a special place to me,..very dear.
We sometimes walk out here, me and the Mrs.
We smile and call it "the old geezer's garden".
Then we get us in a few hugs and kisses.
My old garden been around
a long long time, but she's still alive!
Some folks ask me how old it is,..
and I tell 'em...oh..'bout ...thirty five...
see you folks next time. " nite nite darlin."
I was talkin' with the Lord when He said to me
"Are you okay? Need some company"?
I told Him that even with all His creatures
I couldn't find one that had my features.
"Well, no need to worry about it." He said
Then he gave me a nightcap, and put me to bed.
When I awoke I was awfully sore
Little did I know there was to be a lot more.
For He had taken a bit of my hair and a piece of bone
And whilst I slept, formed for me a unique companion.
I caller her "Eve" as it seemed to fit
As time went by we were a hit.
We would talk and eat and walk the garden nude
No neighbors as yet, we needn't be prude.
Then one day she said to me,
"Hey Adam, here, try some fruit from this tree."
Not knowing the difference between evil and good
I took a big bite, as together we stood.
Then in a flash everything turned black
I knew we were in for some serious flak.
"What have you done?" I asked aloud
"Was this from the tree, which was not allowed?"
"Well", she said, "The snake gave me the word
That if we ate it, we would be like the Lord."
We realized we were naked and ran off for some leaves
When the Lord started calling, we were hiding in the trees.
"What's going on?" He said to me
"Have you eaten of the forbidden tree?"
Like all blame shifting men not skipping a beat
"Yes, Lord", I said, "Eve gave me some to eat.
"You foolish creatures . . . it would have been wise
You could have spent eternity in this Paradise."
"I'm sorry Lord, I can't say it enough."
"You're right, you can't, so I'm making this rough!
Because now, you will have to scratch out a life
For yourself, your children, and especially your wife.
If you think this is bad, you're in for a trick
Wait until some banker dreams up plastic.
She'll be shopping and buying and going all around
It'll be enough, to put you in the ground.
As for her, she'll suffer as much and more too
After all, now she'll have to put up with you!"
So an angel took us to the gate in the garden wall
Saying only, "Be careful, now it will hurt if you fall."
So there we were, On the Outside Looking In
At that manicured garden, where we committed our sin.
I wouldn't mind if so much weren't at stake
Now all she says is, "I have a headache."
I've tried to forgive her and a gentleman be
But I still can't let her control the remote for the TV.
So here I am thinking, "I've been such a dupe,
For posterity . . . I'll put this on Poetry Soup!"
For days cold wind has blown from the channel
but it has calmed to milder breeze today.
I feel a soft spring breath upon my cheek
and hope the gentleness is here to stay.
The strong gale stripped the apple tree of blossoms.
She's now content to show her advanced age
and steps aside in modest resignation
to let the sweet lilac take center stage.
Rhododendrons and azaleas are contenders
for lilac's glory when she starts to fade.
My garden beauties all demand attention,
sun lovers and the ones that thrive in shade.
While I was trapped indoors, the weeds kept growing,
taking my garden as their own domain.
Nature is a strong and stern taskmaster,
just waiting for a chance to grab the rein.
So Mistress Dandelion, I give you warning;
I'm coming with my spade and rake and hoe.
You are invading space reserved for others;
so pack your bags it's time for you to go.
Tell your friends I have eviction orders;
the elegant Miss Rose will be here soon.
She'd be offended by your wanton ways
at her big welcome party come this June.
For Vienna, by request.
Something has gone terribly wrong in my garden today,
My tomatoes are all growling at me with big teeth on display.
And when I investigated I got a big surprise,
‘Cause they were staring back at me with big round bulging eyes.
Then they started to come after me trying to get a taste,
So I had to move a little faster as I was picking up the paste.
I became quite concerned as I thought about my loss,
Afraid that I would be the one who ended up in the sauce.
I started to pull away from them in this deadly match up,
But only for a little while since they could easily catsup.
Then they crashed right through my door like it was made of balsa,
I backed them out with a carving knife and the threat of making salsa.
This is not what I had in mind when I planted a tomato vine,
It’s not right that my garden should pick on me to dine.
I don’t think that I’m out of line and my complaint is perfectly valid
After all no one should have to worry about being eaten by their salad.
Next year I think that I won’t waste my time planting killer tomatoes,
Instead I think I’ll use the space for a run of peaceful red potatoes.
A ball of twine, a washing line
A bag of peat, an old dust sheet
An old flat tyre
A roller-skate, a garden gate
Some dry grass seed, a millipede
A sack of sand, one glove, left hand
A painters pallet
A cracked fish tank, a broken plank
A headless gnome, some dried out loam
An old bike bell, a snail shell
A champagne cork
The dogs toy bone, a traffic cone
It's cleared away, it took all day
I find it is, quite safe to say
It used to fit, But who knows how
My garden shed is empty now
You send bolts through my skin
something I was never to
accomplish with you, when I
saw you it's like my heart sank
to my stomach and I was in
shock my body still my body
heavy felt like when I moved I
was about to fall to my knees
you make me want to get
inside my brain pick you up and
take you out pick you one by
one like a flower because I do
love you and love you not.
she hears him.
He is near.
He is waiting
A day can seem so long
when the heart
lovers are apart.
But it is now
and Juliet will stand
where she had planned to be
as if unplanned.
dressed in verdant green;
to be a queen.
upon her parapet.
she makes her pose;
While somewhere in the greenery below,
She know he's there
She is a tease.
A tremble starts
near his knees.
she has the power;
she has the eggs.
He starts to serenade her
with his legs.
THE IRISH GARDEN
Created by God but designed by me - my garden (13 syll )
It was intended as Helen’s playground (Name of smb loved)
She wanted space big enough but not expansive (rhyme)
And play equipment dear enough but not expensive (rhyme)
“And no dogs ! ” (3 words)
she said. ( Indeed, ‘n’ I agreed ) (palindrome)
And so we set to work making the Irish garden (title)
The work was extensive as well as intensive (rhyme)
She wanted songbirds, saying, ”a bird in hand is worth two in the bush” (quote)
And in Ireland the birdsong is beautiful (country)
I felt she’d long to belong among song but I was wrong (5 words rhyme)
I found her a blackbird (6 syll )
Which sang “Bye Bye Blackbird “ (song title)
So I responded “Goodbye, farewell, adieu” (synon)
Then it was gone, disappeared, absent, vanished (4 words the same)
So now, where to get music for her? (no A / D / L)
Her happy eyes shone with anticipation of singing birds (happy eyes)
But I was out of ideas, running on empty (run/on/emp)
A mechanical model bird?. . . yes, of such things had I heard (rhymes with 6 syll)
Such cultural perfection sublime ! (poem line)
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . .
Written by Sydney Peck
Entered in Tracie ~*~ Indigo Dreamweaver's Contest Mish-Mash
There once was a cougar named Rose
who kept the young men on their toes.
Working in her garden
they'd say "beg your pardon
I'll bet you could use a good hose!"
for Bawdy Limericks Two contest
sponsored by Roy Jerden