I grew a rose from cuttings
pinched from a loved one's plot,
watered at ground-level, not at the top.
Dung and mulch kept well away,
from stems lest their collars rot.
In time, it grew buds that blossomed
into flowers, a bounteous bouquet,
with bursts of red petals, blood bled.
It started with a sprinkle
like from a watering can, but grew.
into a torrential shower
blasting the petals
onto the ground, all around the roses,
which were stripped bare,
to stems, buds, shredded leaves and thorns.
I cried to see all my endeavors lost.
All my efforts lost in vain
to sometimes rain, falling on my roses,
with disdain of rain, utter and complete.
But, when I looked again
I saw the petals all spread out
as a lovely bedspread quilt
surrounding the stems,
on the bare cold ground stained by rain.
Their beauty astounding still,
with red blooms shed, shredded, departed,
garlanded into a ring of petals
that arose to save our day.
Temptation, The Seed Of Sin
Miracle Man
9/5/2024
At life’s every turn there’s enticement to face,
and when we overcome its only by God’s grace.
If we yield to temptation it becomes a sin,
And Satan’s always there giving us his spin.
To hydrate the seeds in our minds that we ban,
Satan always shows up with his watering can.
1 Corinthians 10:13 KJV
13 There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man: but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it.
Who's in the Garden?
Me, said the little girl, watering can in hand.
Who's in the Garden?
Me, said the kitty cat, licking its paws.
Who's in the Garden?
Me said the puppy dog, wagging its tail.
Who's in the Garden?
Me, said the snail, with poppy eyes on stalks.
Who's in the Garden?
Me, said the wee bird, twitting a tale.
Let's all join in!
Who do you want to be?
Who's in the Garden?
Who's in the Garden?
I broke my vintage Holland lamp this morning
Just accidentally, when I went
To water the balcony flowers,
With a watering can in my right hand
And with my left hand
I pulled the curtain down too hard
And my poor lamp fell off the speaker,
A big Tannoy speaker where it was standing.
The dimmed glass lampshade was shattered
But the glass case survived, so now
I put a bigger piece of the lampshade on top,
And the lamp is on again.
I didn’t realize how much the lamp meant to me
Until I broke it. I shall use it as it is now,
Caring of this broken lamp
Because it still shines for me,
Lightning my way through the evenings
And in the grey days, when its nice
To switch on a lamp, to read the news
Or write something of my own.
Summer is ochre glass glowing
rainbow lawn chairs stretching out
fireworks are already blowing
fireflies are flashing about.
Black roses are once again parched
the weeds never seem to mind
that peace has turned into a watering can
with rusted-out holes in its side.
Vampire Iran is sniffing out Israeli veins
Xi buzzards are circling the lotus Taiwan
Putin is feeding on the flesh of Ukraine
Nuclear wizards are waving their wands.
The porch-potted have attenuated
into stick insects.
Geraniums are hallowed be dark moons,
Fragility turns to desiccation.
The red tin watering can
is iced over by a fallen sun.
Of a sudden, a yawning dawn
freezes, is pinned
to a fixed grimace.
Unlock the front door,
push a grudging frosted screen.
Slipper bound toes shrink back,
blood drops through ice holes
in arterial walls.
Tropical fruits uneaten,
beds unmade and cooling,
cat hiding under a throw rug,
just its tail flicking a weather warning.
Slap and lock the door,
ignore the creaking porch
as it were a gutted grave.
Upon a kitchen wall
eyes trace a diminishing light,
a trace that once was a warming ray,
now has congealed into a fingerbone
of yesterday.
the screen door closes with a rattle
like a man trying to throw Yahtzee
despite the odds
shortly after, the familiar footfall of my father
calling ‘Baba boy, baba boy’ to me on the porch
I life my mug in reply, filled with hot coffee,
he fills the watering can with cold water
a low breeze rustles the fronds of a palm tree
father pours water on transplanted roots. it grows here
despite the odds
Aunties Tomato Greenhouse
Walk up to the greenhouse,
Step inside the door,
There's a forest of tomato plants,
Wander around, have a look and explore.
Look left, then look right,
Then at the ceiling to the floor,
Surrounded by tomato plants,
There is tomatoes galore!
How did Aunty grow them?
Was it with lots of kindness and love?
And a watering can,
Like rain from the sky above.
Or did the fairy godmother (Aunty Phil)
Wave her magic wand?
And sprinkle a little magic,
That made them so big and strong!
Now step outside the greenhouse,
Take a tomato or two,
They are tasty and delicious,
And also good for you!
1/8/23
today was so hot
and my flowers are wilted now
I rush quickly for the watering can
pouring cool water over each
and like magic they raise their heads
There is something life-giving
When it starts to rain
Refreshing flora and fauna
Calming to mind and brain
The soft pitter-patter
As it waters everywhere
No sign of a garden hose
Or watering can is there
Rain falls like magic
Gently from the sky
Taps are not needed
No water tanks to buy
Rain is essential
Nothing can survive without a drink
It is fundamental
One does not have to think
About the consequence
If all the world was dry
Most of the beauty of this earth
And all on it would die
watering can full of fresh spring water
multicolored chickadee with a pretty song
spider keeping out of reach
bright yellow daffodils with ruffled necks
a fluffy eager bunny with the fluffiest tail
gorgeous purple and white African violets
polka dotted ribbons around gardening pots
a simple monarch butterfly with her eye on the prize
snores of a happy bumble bee
spring is around the corner
Old man wind pulled back the ocean waters
and funneled them into his watering can;
sprinkled them across the state;
over-watering every garden in sight.
A flood, six inches of water invaded my basement;
a three inch wading hole in the street and
a fortune in appliances and furniture was lost.
Afterwards he painted a rainbow in a cloudy sky and
started over again.
His tantrum lasted for two weeks.
There once was a hornet who tried
To build a strange straw nest inside
As soon as grass was cut
He'd bring to his little hut
To spruce up, but on water he rides
He tried to build his nest inside the curved spout of my plastic watering can. The first time I tried to use it after he started building, I got a shock when he flew out.
It might have been a blast
It could have been such fun
But no-ones gonna reminisce
for twenty twenty-one
No sooner had we got around
To last years sausage rolls
The government decided it
would fill us full of holes
First we had to have a jab
To save our poor grandmother
But then we’re told we had to have
Another… then another
So this year I won’t raise a glass
To twenty twenty-two
I’ll sprinkle like a watering can
And, don’t laugh… so will you
Cos now we have a lot more holes
Than back when we were born
So make sure if you have a beer
You’re standing on your lawn
The single born,is like cowslip
Blooming freshly
In a winter-garden
Potent and virile aside
Waiting for watering can
To water it and avail coolly.
The single born,fled rivals away
Boon blithely in a bullion
Just as the only Navel in the quarter
Buffet his ticks stilted
Wailers remains silence
Instead of I from galore.
The single born, you're parent's gaze
Tried of them to see you smile,
Alacrity!
Always stuck you onto orthostatic
Loudly "you are vile,
Pal of shadows men and boys,
Winter -man...
The giant Astro;
Who twinkles on everyone's ego
Different that of throngs"
The single born, you're mild,
And fresh cinnamon.
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