Mary, Mary how contrary
why does your garden grow?
with old tin cans and frying pans
and muddy boots all in a row.
Car piled high with spider's webs
Their spindly smiles, their lovely legs.
Come and say 'Good mourn ye all'
'We live here now and have a ball'
Inside your hut a homeless man.
You gave some tea and made a plan,
To wash his socks so he could go
And get a job and flat and grass to mow
Golden Wonder, Blenheim Blush
A tattie feast chipped, mashed and mushed.
A field of spuds your Mam would cook,
You now don't need your gardening book.
Pippin, gala, Brae burn and Cox,
Fat round red spheres their crunchy Hocks,
Harvest in a late September
To make the wine for next November
Seasons come as turning bicycles
Protecting flowers from biting icicles.
Feeding plants and changing hedges,
Thick hanging blooms, fruits and veges.
Mary, Mary not contrary,
I know how your garden grows.
With careful plans and gardening hands
and many years in the Know.
Categories:
allotment, fruit, garden, humorous, september,
Form: Iambic Pentameter
I have been Intrusted with knowledge!
Completely incrusted with time,
Admirably holding onto wisdom,
Lost for thousands of generations.
Set free like the busting of Hoover dam.
Overflowing rapids of life altering thoughts,
Of all the great thinkers,
Hoarded up condensing it’s
Own energy from all periods past.
Released to flush the poor unsuspecting main frame for the universal nervous system,
Of yet another victim of time.
By Desi E. Sherman
Categories:
allotment, deep, desire, inspiration, inspirational,
Form: Free verse
Sedge grass, unwanted there,
it terrorized my uncle's garden,
blemishing the neatly ordered rows
of cauliflower and cabbage,
tomatoes, beans and beets.
He would till from dawn to dusk,
his angled back at odds with the
concision of his spade;
his way of giving thanks,
the Yorkshire Dales his place of worship.
The ordinariness of standing water
puddled, reflecting sweat and struggle.
Freshly turned, the earth displayed
a texture like the furrows in his face.
A summer gone, and gone were lust,
impatience from a young boy's mind.
I brought him food and water,
and urged him to seek shelter and relief
as I acknowledged his composure,
his steadfastness, his strength.
Categories:
allotment, nature,
Form: Verse
Sedge grass, unwanted there,
it terrorized my uncle's garden,
blemishing the neatly ordered rows
of cauliflower and cabbage,
tomatoes, beans and beets.
He would till from dawn to dusk,
his angled back at odds with the
concision of his spade;
his way of giving thanks,
the Yorkshire Dales his place of worship.
The ordinariness of standing water
puddled, reflecting sweat and struggle.
Freshly turned, the earth displayed
a texture like the furrows in his face.
A summer gone, and gone were lust,
impatience from a young boy's mind.
I brought him food and water,
and urged him to seek shelter and relief
as I acknowledged his composure,
his steadfastness, his strength.
Categories:
allotment, inspirational, nature,
Form: Verse
Through the gate and into another world
Leaving my cares on the outside
Breathing in the air of my sanctuary
That’s where you’ll find me,
When life feels hard to bear.
Hands deep in the soil
The rich smell filling my mind
Feeling the cold earth between my fingers
That’s where you’ll find me,
When life feels hard to bear.
Talking to the chickens
Stroking their soft feathers
Listening to their curious chirps
That’s where you’ll find me,
When life feels hard to bear.
Gently planting new crops
Watering them in to the ground
Whispering soft words of encouragement
That’s where you’ll find me,
When life feels hard to bear.
Digging over a plot of land
Pulling out weeds to start a clean slate
Leaning on my spade for a rest
That’s where you’ll find me,
When life feels hard to bear.
Drinking homemade wine around a campfire
A warm glow spreading across my cheeks
Listening to songs in the night
That’s where you’ll find me,
When life feels hard to bear.
My joy, my deep breath
My allotment, my other world
A place that waits for me no matter what happens in my day
That’s where you’ll find me,
When life feels hard to bear.
Categories:
allotment, earth, farm, flower, garden,
Form: Free verse
Sedge grass, unwanted there,
it terrorized my uncle's garden,
blemishing the neatly ordered rows
of cauliflower and cabbage,
tomatoes, beans and beets.
He would till from dawn to dusk,
his angled back at odds with the
concision of his spade;
his way of giving thanks,
the Yorkshire Dales his place of worship.
The ordinariness of standing water
puddled, reflecting sweat and struggle.
Freshly turned, the earth displayed
a texture like the furrows in his face.
A summer gone, and gone were lust,
impatience from a young boy's mind.
I brought him food and water,
and urged him to seek shelter and relief;
my way of giving thanks for his composure,
his steadfastness, his strength.
Categories:
allotment, devotion, giving,
Form: Verse