On its plinth, behushed, at hall's end
Beneath clock, coaxed backwards
Privet-pungent, in its own
Sighed out thin light's regard.
At day's sagging end, dredging up
More dust, shuffling, each nears
Its emotional-responsive charge.
As with priest's holy fears.
Filling up for yore, propelled rough
Perpetual mud, that was
So light held what were golden times!
So thoughtless, a gemmed mass.
Walking by the river’s edge
A trail of rising shapes
Dying seeds and leaves
Swept up from under the privet hedge
Where the city’s dead air escapes
Circling stirred up they fly
Along the water’s bank
Floating in the silent breeze
Suspended seemingly alive
Then all at once they sank
And finally they die
,,
Summer Hiku 10
brown cedar waxwing
devouring privet berry \
\
ground is her d n.
u i
s t b
down where
the privet blooms
birds sing
love songs
whip-poor-wills
let me know
dawn is near
no alarm clock needed
i lie in thoughtful awe
of the glory Jesus made
for you and me
to enjoy
i pray in repentance
in thanksgiving
and hope
that today i have strength
to do what needs to be done
so, we can live
in peace and love
just one more day
Down where the privet hedge blooms
And doves sing their coos
A woman feeds the birds
Now her life resumes
God's love is an ocean
And mine a small-streamed river
The tide comes in and rejuvenates
The small stream's thirst for life
Dear Lord in your son's name
Let the water flow
And my life like spring flowers blossom
Amen
Some time ago, when we were free to do;
ten I was, or twelve?
I walked along a misty lane to school
the etched patterns of ferns and trees
on my window when I awoke
now echoed in the frozen grass
and early ferns
being gently crushed
by each step I took.
The sun had begun its morning due
to warm the earth,
and generate the day's miasma mist;
as did the breathing of the gathering crowd,
which hung upon the hedge
of privet, hawthorn, yew,
to rest upon a thousand spider webs
a myriad of droplets dew.
And there it was
the spider
fat and yellow;
waiting.
Not in the shadows,
as the others I had seen
but, eight legs akimbo
in the centre of it's now opaque web
taunting.
I had a cricket in a matchbox
in my pocket
A prize from yesterday's
sweet forage.
I placed the wriggling insect
upon the web and watched
the attack
the bite
the wrap.
And so I write
we ran away
each riding on our tricycle....
switched all the way home
privet hedge limbs
have so many uses....
red streaks on my legs
the ride back home
took so much longer....
crying and pedaling
In a garden, where light dances ‘pon the trees
Privet hedge’s blossoms perfume the cool damp air
A secret room inside holds lovers’ decree
Whispers of promises, love beyond compare
Emerald leaves kissed by the sun’s gold strikes me
Revealing lovers embraced without a care
In this hidden haven, a new tale unfolds
Hearts entwined, bound by God’s love and grace that holds
Down where the privet hedge's buds are white
There are green blueberries upon verdant bushes
They are all chilled by low temperatures at night
While amaryllis' buds through earth pushes
A man is sick
And she tells him"
If you eat this middle sugar cane,
_________________________________
You will encrease energy
And go to work
Tomorrow."
April 26/ 2023
By Alfonso Warally Ngengethe
Mussabwa Chris
Message:
Beside pure honey,
There is no a tree or fruit
Which is so sweet
Than Sugar cane.
If a Bantu woman reffers
Herself as middle Sugar can or sugar,
She means a lot about herself
Physically
And spiritually
1. She can use her body as first care
When a man has fever
And they don't have some
tablets in the house.
2. She can be a psychologist
Of a confused man
3. She can stand with her lover
In hard times till to overcome
The challenges.
4. The middle Sugar cane
Expressing the sweetest
Of her privet part
in romance which every man chase
And enjoy the most.
I am running the Sconset bluff path.
I go past darkened houses,
black out curtains hanging,
past Linda Thomas and Jolene Baer
who are chasing rabbits into the privet hedges.
Their fathers call out to them-
“Careful girls!”-
drinks sloshing, ice tinkling
as I go by invisible,
yet sensed.
A summer later,
I will be gone.
Starched, ironed khakis
in a trunk wait ahead in my room.
The beginning and end
of a life never started.
Dutchman's pipe trumpet vine
Virgin bower shrubs so divine
Beauty bush bright blue bean
climbers high to set the scene
Bamboo broom laurel bay
Lavender scent lasts all day
Bush clover russian sage
Azalea taking centre stage.
Elder myrtle bittersweet
perfumes the hazy heat
Privet peony prickly heath
Ivy holly for a seasonal wreath
Jasmine & jews mallow
by a trickling stream so shallow
Sea buckthorn to screen
Ceanothus high shaded green
Once were badgers in leafy dale,
once were rabbits and foxes too,
once were pheasants in shining copse where cuckoopint and coltsfoot grew.
Once were songbirds in privet hedges,
once were bluebells for mile upon mile,
once were dark woods cool and shading hiding squirrels and foxes guile.
Once were home fed pigs and poultry,
once were food with proper taste,
once were marls with mirrored water, but now they only hold our waste.
Once were farmers in umber meadow,
once were colliers in village pit,
once were taverns for quenching thirst where now the townie and tourist sit.
Once were fens and fields and down-lands,
once were moorhen and curlews call,
once were stewards of Gods own country, where now there is but urban sprawl.
Once were leaders of Albion's masses,
once were statesmen of unbending word,
once was a land that was fit for heroes, where now only spin and deceit are heard.
ii Ivy and Yew Sculpture Garden ii - CT
I smiled when fir boughs hid from view
Live floral statues in mystery
With teasing eyes to see their clues
In topiary forms set free.
With ancient sculptors hand and eye
Spirals born – laurel stars shine shy
Fox and hounds racing on the lawn
While ivy hearts wink at the dawn.
Castle walls made of angel vine
Garlands entwined in sweet yew
Privet Cheshire grins with top hats
Marching pyramids playing chess.
I smiled when ivy boats sailed by
On garden paths where magic lies.
9-27-20
Dedicated to Ladew Gardens in Lewes, MD
Our Privacy Hedge
By Miracle Man
July 31, 2020
Years past due was our Privet Hedge’s trim,
once long ago this hedge always looked prim.
Severe pruning has made survival look slim,
But rain is bringing revival to each bare stem.
This hedge grows at the back of our place,
when I decided to give this area a fresh face.
Something that might become a showcase,
now, perhaps with a fence, I’ll have to replace.
For years it had grown and was 12 foot high,
why it was neglected, I can’t remember why.
Because of my decision to cut back in July,
if this hedge should perish, I’ll be the bad guy.
While there may be less maintenance in a ceder fence,
Mocking Birds don’t build nests on cedar fences.
Tom
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