Garden Fresh
Crisp end of winter morning,
my shovel digs the soil,
turning over weeds and worms,
and watch them twist and coil …
hoe the dirt once more again,
until a soft and silky bed,
then plant seeds, where once grew weeds,
and grow vegetables instead.
Watch out for snails!
Watch out for slugs!
Watch out for earwigs!
Watch out for harlequin bugs!
In two weeks or a little more,
shoots of green grow from the seeds,
now fighting for their patch of ground,
but a little later than - the weeds.
And so I’m down upon my knees,
working out what plant is what;
making sure carrot and parsnip,
are growers in this garden plot.
Watch out for sparrows!
Watch out for silver eyes!
Watch out for blackbirds!
Watch out for magpies!
Summer sun and drying winds;
summer storms with chance of hail.
Caterpillars, thrips and aphis,
do their best to have me fail,
but murder - mayhem travel well,
with snail bait, dusts and poison spray,
scarecrows, nets and old wine casks,
to keep marauding birds at bay.
Watch out for virus’!
Watch out for rot!
Watch out for mildew!
Watch out for black spot!
Late summer, autumn and the plants
are looking rather worn.
The leaves are dry, stems are dead,
as nature typifies her scorn,
for death will come with winter cold,
but thankfully the harvest flesh,
has been worth the season trials,
to dine on garden fresh.
Copyright © Lindsay Laurie | Year Posted 2022
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment