Two Cabbage Whites fluttering
Through the warm summer air
And I'm watching them drowsily
From my comfy garden chair.
Leaves are whispering muttering
In the light steady breeze
Blowing through a neighbour’s
Tall, mature, garden trees.
The tomatoes are blushing on
The four plants we’ve got
Standing on the patio, each
In its own deep ceramic pot.
I let their fragrance§
Envelop my face
And i’m transported to
A different time and place.
To the long gardens behind
The blacksmith’s yard
Overhung by the trees
From the village graveyard.
Tomatoes in the greenhouse
With that very special smell
And the taste of stolen fruit
That i remember so well.
Hidden by the plants
Eating one or two
Deliciously home grown
Wondering if dad knew
Creeping in there
Time after time
Carefully repeating
My little acts of crime.
In a very different garden now
Just as tall but different trees
But still the same treesong
Drifting on a different breeze.
Both places of happiness
And, memory being kind,
They are now forever linked
In the recesses of my mind.
Born in a barn raised on a farm
makin' hay come what may
won't do what I'm told
can't be bought or sold
with a mind of my own
don't need politicians
prophets or priests
deciding my decisions
drink from the bottle
drive full throttle
don't get me wrong
know where I belong
ain't got no social graces
know where my place is
do what nature taught me
down in the lower forty
where rattling the bars of their cage
'til the cattle come home
chickens from afar were induced
and returned to roost
while at day's end
the scarecrow he an' me
we be best of friends
No mansion on the lake
A cottage on the lane
A hub for dwelling sake
Worn wood on windowpane
Potatoes in the bin
A mattress for my bed
A table in the den
Suffice for breaking bread
A garden wrought with weeds
That flourishes in the Fall
But still supplies my needs
When neighbors come to call
Though rustic it may be
Whenever I may roam
I ever long to see
This place that I call home
Recalling how chiggers can itch
I'll still cross the muddiest ditch
the biggest blackberries to find.
Deet sends most critters to their niche.
Wrestling briers, a path I'll stake
while dreaming of cobblers to bake...
Whoa! my full pail I left behind
the moment I spotted a snake.
Returning with weapon in tow
and searching along with my beau
At last, I regain peace of mind,
he scares off the snake with a hoe.
Retrieving my bucket brim full
we hurry past fence and the bull.
Are they worth the grit and the grind?
You bet, homegrown blackberries rule.
July 31, 2022
Contest: Your Thoughts on Blackberries
Sponsor: Matt Caliri
They shout hatred as blood flows
through veins full of rage and madness;
they fly the red white and blue
as lunatic rogues at the helm
rouse and incite flames of dormant lunacy
to claim a nation from under its democracy
well thought out? it seems not
but well suited for a carnival of insanity
for the whole world to see.
Insurrection!! shouts the Left
not so fast says the Right
let’s pretend this never was
But what’s a nation to do?
these aren’t foreign dissidents
penetrated unto our soil
but a homegrown bunch empowered
with guns, might and rights too
this creates far more danger
than ISIS could ever do.
How can it be; this country we love
harboring a homegrown enemy
defined in terror under the guise of the flag
and rights to Amendment Two
an entity if left to grow
shall cut off the neck of a country
once powerful and strong
now divided unto itself in two
an era that will fester like an open sore
if not soon put back together
will live with chaos for ever more
bring shame to a nation once highly exalted
why risk that—now or ever?
Let’s not forget how the world sees us matters
Let’s aim for humanity not disparity.
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.