Cow dung cakes
some eat from the load
Natural
and weed-free
Yes - both fresh and composted
... mild and sweet in taste
Inspired by:
Jan Allison's poem "I wish you would moooooove on"
Spring Sonnet
The microscopic lifeforms in my soil
Sense the rising in degrees Celsius.
Old Summer’s red wiggler worms now uncoil,
While hungry birds look down most odious.
Most showers now done, the weeds envelope
The surviving herbs, flowers, plus veggies.
Like the weeds, slimy molluscs interlope,
Quitting the shadows with their progenies.
Scooping composted chicken & steer
Into my orange Home Depot buckets;
Troweling in costly mineral grit -
Then turning the soils, crushing silt nuggets.
The difficult tasks done, seeds in the grounds –
October pumpkins will surround the mounds.
Leaves of orange, brown,ochre and gold twirl and swirl in
autumnal breeze
This golden gown drifts to the forest floor. Tree
shivers as limbs exposed
yet her vibrant shawl blankets the ground until it's
composted to earth
It wasn't all that long ago when a hole in the ground was where people would go.
Many grew sick from lack of hygiene so some one invented the pit latrine.
This greatly prevented the spread of disease. People squatted over a slab
and bent at the knees.
The first flushable was used by British royalty, a toilet that the commoner
would never see.
Chamber pots and out houses were used by many.
They composted the waste and saved a lot of pennies.
Years later dry toilets were used in most homes.
They had a wooden seat as their throne.
Some time during the twentieth century flushable toilets were
in every home you would see.
Tout allure and hello to a cleaner way.
A clever French man invented the bidet.
Is this too much information? Don't go yet.
The end of my evolution of the toilet.
Grappling with problems.
The hands in being now
Occupied with this
Unburdened somehow.
Digging up the weed
Dead heading flower.
Cares of the housewife
Composted this hour.
Crop Rows as The Way Things Ought to Grow
David J Walker
Your rain falls uniformly in a
Row on gardens that grow in a
Straight-line while
Mine is subject to the
Wind and sun and falls in
Layers of composted Ataxia
Keeping in mind
The perception of the aesthetics
of perfection that is packaged
in the planning of crop rows
as the way things ought to grow
A GARDENERS DAY
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A gardener's day starts at dawn, their hobby.
To feed the birds and water plants,
and perhaps a chat with the local Bobby?
Then exterminate some red ants.
To feed the birds and water plants, plus weeding.
Check greenhouse temperatures right.
What weeds were pulled composted if the needing?
Then to clean his tools shiny bright.
Check greenhouse temperatures right, warm not too cold.
Time now for a breakfast break.
A cuppa with a bowl of cereal, warm gold,
then some brown bread toast he'd make
Time now for a breakfast break, no, just eat some cake!
A gardener's day starts at dawn
Now breakfast done, back in his garden, grabs his rake,
He mows his lawn, just right it's shawn.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
For more info on this form a link: http://poetscollective.org/poetryforms/lilt/
A poet full of noise you empty of sound
A pilgrimage you have trodden under ground
With every seed that nature drops
Without rain the seeds will wither out
Is this the time of the season
Have the nightingale lost their song
Immortality does not exist
A voice composted seeps into the abyss
Who will hasten to regenerate
A poet’s noise from an empty space
Will anyone rebel against conformity
Or join the pilgrimage of the poets plight
Week's end rain
Pit, pat, drip, flood
Mud, slush, slide
Water overflowing and rising
Muddy water
Wash the fields
Prepare for the spring
Leaves composted
Prepare the soil for the seed's
Nurturing to great fruit bearers
Majestic gardener is at work today.
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