Short Hoeing Poems
Short Hoeing Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Hoeing by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Hoeing by length and keyword.
King
Haughty,royal
Ruling, gloating,dining
Gold,mansion,clay,straw
Sowing,hoeing,starving
Humble, ragged
Peasant
6-16-19
morning plans cancelled
there will be no gardening
to wet too muddy
the ground rejoices
saved from tilling and hoeing
by summer's rainstorm
Far too many of these absentee fathers believe that they can plant a seed and harvest
a decent crop (child) without ever hoeing a row or pulling a weed (having any
involvement in their lives).
Memories Lost
past entangled snares
heavy laden under mire
lurk memories lost
deeply seeded held
cleverly hidden in mist
are memories lost
heaving hoeing
ebbing flowing never showing
all memories lost
~deborah burch©
4/28/2012
No longer snowing
The sun is glowing
The rains ongoing
Daffodils growing
Crows crowing
Winds blowing
Rivers overflowing
Children helloing
Frisbee throwing
Much more outgoing
Farmers ready for sowing
Gardeners hoeing
Neighbors easygoing
All soon will be lawn mowing
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
AN EASY LIFE
Knowing not a lot about
Growing things from seed,
Sowing in the proper places,
Hoeing out the weeds
Sought alternative solutions,
Thought I’d scrap the flower bed.
Ought to make my life far simpler.
Bought a patio instead.
17th June 2021
Lento eight lines contest
Sponsor - Joseph May
i suck
a drop
of honey
from your
honey
suckle
flower
not
taking
a bite
but a bit
nibbling
on your
catnip
i'm
hard
a tree
barking
bark a
dog
wood
i arose
aroused
she was
yellow
she was
thorny
a rose
then i
kissed
her two
lips and
then the
other
tulips
planting
my kisses
hoeing
around
we'd be
the
we
Form:
Thunder in the morning I complain
Summer's even
Hoeing in the rain I soon quit the field. . .
Freedom,
The spring at the one tree
From which we drank
Sweat pouring off us
In the grasshopper blur of Midsummer
The lightning dances in my eyes
The thunder rattles in my ears,
O Great Spirit
To be,to be
Freefalling and free
Grandma used to live in a boat, and she was sometimes rowing
But she got rid of grandpa, who now lives with a gardener who is hoeing.
Grandma is surrounded by thimbles, needles, and fat quarters showing
We always say, “If she is not sewing, then she is sewing”
It might not make sense to you, for you are not knowing
That our grandma is always, and I mean always sewing.
Wretched thrives going at rapid speeds
Spreading lines like ill manic seeds
Fanatic flowers attacking whack salad weeds
Hoeing each line with a cocaine breeze
I sneeze and tease these cursive lines with ease
Herbs dipped in asinine with the blue cheese
Cheddar mixed with ketamine, fed my epiphany if any.
Thoughts ready to go steady. Aim fire bang goes the confetti.
glorious day calls
donning summer's broad-brimmed hat
for LOVE of sunshine
locate garden shoes
unworn since last november
garden work my FUN
laggard spring was late and cold
urgent..seeding must get done
dig them up and put them in
setting sets in ..seeding seeds
hoeing, raking, composting
POETRY alive
Won a 5th with this
By: Joyce Johnson for Linda's contest "Fun & Frolic" (3 forms)
Hoeing there and
trying to
make the fake food
stuff grow i
found inside a
cracked line some
specimens of
unarmed rat fish
that had
futon sponges
glued to
them along with
all the other odd sermons
about
blundering humility
and how
the thin react to knights in
white sat-
in sheets when the weak end bend-
ers play to come dribbling out
their un-
locked crates and great granny nook
holes.
A farmers works not easy
It’s a hard and lonely life
I never gets to town much
So its hard to find a wife
I’m up at dawn most every morn
A milking and a feeding
Then afternoons I’m in the fields
A hoeing and a weeding
So when the sun goes down at night
The working day be done
I’ll go down to the sheep pen
Just to pick a pretty one
They sees me in my wellies
And they all begin to bleat
They know that I am there to give
Some special girl a treat
While weeding in my vegetable garden,
I took a needed break, from my hoeing.
I gazed along the creek over the glen,
a pride of tiger lilies opening.
It appeared to me an exposition,
a thousand deep, emerging on parade.
Row on row and column after column,
in full regalia, a marching brigade.
A brilliant orange with narrow spots of brown,
on each top hat, a yellow pollen crown.
Shoulder to shoulder in closed rank column,
marching, marching in ornamental plume.