Long Tomato plant Poems
Long Tomato plant Poems. Below are the most popular long Tomato plant by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Tomato plant poems by poem length and keyword.
I am house shopping
with the required Buyer's Agent,
also a fairly tolerant friend of mine.
She likes to drive
although not gifted with any sense of direction,
until we hurriedly arrive,
then she beelines into the ubiquitously requisite lock box
as if by smell.
Meanwhile
I visit current occupants,
the trees first and foremost,
then bushes
flowers,
occasionally, to my grateful surprise,
an entire garden,
or even just one vegetable,
a tomato plant,
a humble gang of shaded herbs.
I ask them how it is here
in their home.
I like to taste their soil
for signs of pregnancy
but who knows what contaminants
might fester here.
And my real estate agent,
although a friend,
finds it unseemly
for me to put my mouth around
what I probably won't buy.
She, too soon,
coaxes me away from my greet and meets
with shade-givers
and grasses,
the edible and ornamental neighbors
of the "big house,"
to explore the darkness of plumbing
and electrical systems,
attics and basements,
kitchens and bathrooms...
Her list of boring things to look at
and too often smell
in a bad way
feels endless
in comparison to too brief introductions
outside,
speaking with,
listening for,
hoping and faithing and loving with
any signs of life
among these large majority of property historians,
co-investors,
cooperative care-givers and receivers.
Eventually,
it becomes our time to aimlessly wander around
in search of yet another lock box
on our life For Sale list.
I say goodbye to the trees
and shrubs,
my occasional edible
and more popular ornamental hosts,
far too soon
to ever learn
if they would choose me
or not
to become with them.
I feel like I do
on election nights
when winners and losers are announced
by statistical projection
before votes are actually counted
from all us co-investors;
and long before registered voters
have listened to trees
still standing in our yards,
on our farms,
in our fertile forests,
to learn their quieter discernment
of which candidates produce more healthy cooperative outcomes
and which more toxic competitions
within these diversities
of Earth's wealthy nature.
THEY TRIED TO INCREASE THE LEVEL OF PRODUCTIVITY
THEY WANTED TO OUT PERFORM EACH NEW WAY OF DOING
THINGS
THEY SOUGHT REMEDY USING MACHINES, ROBOTS, HOVERCRAFTS
AND EVEN A TRACTOR THAT CARRIED A STAGE.
THE MAN WAS MADDENED BY HIS FAILURE TO DO
THE WORKS HIS WIFE HAD ACCEPTED OF HIM
SHE WOULD DIVORCE HIM
IF HE COULDN'T OUT PERFORM HER COMPETON
HE TOOK THE CHALLENGE AND MEET IT, NOT ONLY
TO DEFEAT HIS FOE, BUT TO BRING A CLEAR AND DISTINCTIVE LINE
BETWEEN THEN AND NOW.
THEY GREW TOMATOES AND OTHER VEGETABLES
AND WEATHER OFTEN PLAYED A FACTOR IN THEIR HOW
MUCH THEY COULD HARVEST AND WHEN.
HIS APPROACH WAS TO INCREASE PRODUCTIVITY TO ALLOW MORE TIME TO DO MORE WORK
WITH LESS EFFORT.
HE INVENTED A STAGE WHERE PEOPLE WHO SEAT AND A TRACTOR WOULD MOVE THROUGH THE FIELDS, WHILE THE SITTERS PICKED VEGETABLES.
ANOTHER CONTRAPTION WAS A HOVERCRAFT THAT CARRIED TENSEATS AND LARGE BASKETS, A PILOT WOULD OPERATE THE CRAFT WHILE THE WORKERS PERFORMED PICKING DUTIES.
THE OTHERS WERE ROBOTS THAT WOULD TAKE THE WHOLE TOMATO PLANT FROM THE GROUND AND SOUGHT GREEN AND RIPENED TOMATOES.
HE PREFERRED PICKING GREEN TOMATOES.
THE OTHER WAS A WHOLE DIFFERENT WAY OF PLANTING, AND HARVESTING
THEY SPACED THE PLANTS ROWS SO THAT A LARGE TRACTOR WOULD STRADDLE THEM.
THEY HAD A LARGE SCREENED AREA WERE THE WORKERS WALKED BACK AND FORTH, PICKING THROUGH THE SCREEN AND THE SLOW MOVING TRACTOR WOULD MOVE ABOUT TAKING IT'S TIME. THIS WAS A UNIQUE WAY OF PICKING TOMATOES, CUCUMBERS, PUMPKINS,SQUASH AND A LOT OF PLANTS.
THEY WANTED TO WIN. AND THESE IDEAS PROVENED HIM SUCCESSFUL. THEY WERE STOPPED WHEN A MEMBER OF HIS FAMILY CLAIMED, THAT THE IDEAS HAD BEEN SWIPED BY THE HUSBAND AND WIFE.
Late August and the hot air drifts over the lake
the sky glowers striking a contrast black to gray
soon, very soon, the lake with be thundered awake
and the heat mirage with dissolve in disarray.
The last of children's giggles will echo ghostly
through the woods at water's edge mixed with sparrow song.
Pink skinned lovers chilled will be but a memory
and their cuddling brought indoors where it belongs
The garden's done, each tomato plant has yielded
scorched by the heat, fields and forest long for Autumn,
praise the heat of summer for it raised the corn fields,
raise a glass from the yield of the apple and the plum.
Say goodbye to August with a gentle kiss on the breeze
for the wild geese are flying, flying through the changing trees.
8/30/13
I’ve a garden full of uninvited guests; time to weed.
Tobacco worm, on my tomato plant, don’t spit at me;
you were not invited to partake of my produce!
Mr. Milkweed, why do you love my yard? Your sticky secretions make me itch; I do not want you in my cabbage.
Mr. Beetle, I gave no permission for your party; your rowdy friends must go. They won’t allow my beans to grow.
Ms. Wood betony, you may stay; your nutty flavor and fresh dandelion leaves, will enhance my garden salad. It was nice of you to drop by for lunch.
Ah, a lovely dog rose; how did you know that other uninvited guests,
were giving me a headache? I’ll harvest your medicinal berries to cure it.
You too, may stay; oh, how I love rose hip tea.
With uninvited guests, you can’t be too careful or too picky. Some are good, others bad; but I will not…be spat at, without retaliation!
Here, Mr. Coopers hawk, have a tobacco worm and leave those bunnies alone! I plant extra lettuce and carrots for them.
Solanum
Dangerous and beautiful,
tasty and deadly,
nature’s guessing games...
When I was a child
my mother told me that
her parents and other wise adults
warned her never to eat tomatoes.
After all, it was well known
that all parts of the tomato plant,
especially the ripe red fruit
so loved by birds and horn worms,
were deadly poison.
Genetic bits bind
the natural world together,
we *****Sapiens distantly to
the genus Solanum,
including that tomato I mentioned,
flourishing perhaps in your garden,
dying in mine,
flattened by hail and record rains.
Eventually some brave soul,
forgotten to history,
bit into one,
juice dribbled past her smiling lips
and down her chin;
she survived.
Antediluvian genetics...
Might it be possible
that the primordial soup
imparted a tiny drop or two
of Solanum juice to us humans?
After all, we are
beauty and danger,
juiciness,
compassion
narcissism,
light and the darkness,
joy, anger, and grief
in varying measure.
If so, the tomato prevails.
The rule then is:
eat the fruit and all is well.
Eat the greens
in an otherwise lovely salad
and be dead before dessert.
Satan wants my leg
The right one
He's been trying
for years
First when as a child
in Gonja Hospital
Butt injection smack
in sciatic nerve
The pain - oh my god
flexed my knee
Dr. Lubia with a board
straightened it
Then an excited preteen
on class excursion
Tomato plant in Pwalugu
leg in drain gutter
The osteo that mom treated
with prayers & tears
Anyamu the medicine man
with boiling herbs
Today the herniated disc
pain - oh my god
The drop foot and more
L4-L5 L3-L4
Satan wants my right leg
he wont get it
Try as hard as he can
I'll still keep it
Swaying in the breeze
a tomato plant, stands
Around the plant,
smile the rose plants
Buds developed on both
soon the flowers bloomed
Dazzling yellow rose
unfurled the fragrance
engrossed bees and flies
twined its stem
to greet its friend
branch shaken friendly
with the cute little
yellow tomato flower
that wedged tiny umbrella within.
Unrolling secrets through air
both vented gleefully
Then the gardner's little girl
arrived, exclaimed at the flowers.
She nudged the yellow roses,
inhaled its aroma,
kissed the petals
took selfie with it.
Unlike the yellow rose,
the tomato flower went unnoticed
Yellow rose felt bad,
could feel her friend's mind
" Ain't I beautiful", tomato flower asked
"You are! my friend" rose consoled
" When I start wilting, they will hate me
but when you start wilting, they would dance
coz then you will turn into tomato,
after all they are the silly humans" concluded the rose...
Clear sand colored sunrise
Against gray sky blue skies
What can I learn from this
Green trees are just black shilouettes
Each species a different shape
They just stand and feed
From the nutrients provided
Drawing carbon dioxide and release
Oxygen on which all animals depend
These trees don't struggle, cry
They just abide in place
Different from one another
But stand close each receiving
What they need from the earth
And from the air
It is pleasantly cool today
Air is crisp dry and just
Barely moving
Days like this are glorious
Hear crows, roosters, dogs
And man made equipment
Breathe deeply of the oxygenated air
Thanks for this time
Maximilianii sunflowers are in full bloom
Over night they opened
What a surprise
They are just beautiful against
The sand colored sunrise
There are five tomatoes turning
On the topsy turvy tomato plant
The cats come to join me
They want my attention
Just a pat or two will do
They want to be fed
Responsibility calls so I must go
Thank you God for the quiet time alone with you
Form:
God, I love her
She is perfect in every way
I must say...
When you made her,
you over-achieved making beauty
Ever since I first seen her, I loved her
I love her for what she gives to me
I love her the way she looks
I love her because...
she listens and never talks back
Rain or shine she looks amazing
You made her skin- smooth and shapely
You made her scent that of fruit
You made her fruit- in good taste
You made her long and curvy
Tonight,
Her fruits will touch my lips
Tonight,
My tongue will taste her sweetness
Tonight,
I will eat her...
first tomato!
God, I love... my tomato plant!
I’ve been thinking about an old saying that my mother was so fond of. “You’ll reap what you sow.” Now back when I was an itty-bitty tyke, I always wondered why she would say such an obvious thing. I mean, what would you expect? If you planted a tomato plant, you sure as shootin’ ain’t going to get apples. Duh!!! Old people can be pretty silly sometimes. But as I was cruising through my Facebook life today, I understood what she meant. Now, there isn’t much I can do about other folks who seem to live for the sole purpose of spreading hate or discontent, but I can do something about me. So, like the great agent Gibbs would do, I too have created a set of rules to guide me through the maze of posts and comments of social media.
Rule 1---If it ain’t got my name in it then it’s none of my business.
Life moves by too fast
to have any time to waste—
spreading discontent