Monday, November 9, 2015

Poems about my city garden

July 17, 2013

There was a little pumpkin plant growing by the door.
If there was to be a pumpkin, it needed to grow some more.
I dug it up so carefully, putting it in another place,
Near the backyard lily patch, where it had its own space.
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June 1, 2013

Digging in my garden is like digging in the past.
I keep finding things that were long-ago outcast--
A shiny yellow marble, glistening brightly in the sun;
A rusty, tireless hot wheel that was once a lot of fun.

A crow flits by in my reverie,
Cawing loudly with a mocking voice.
What does he know of memory?
He has no right to give advice.

Since those days of yore I cherish;
I hold them close to me.
But really they didn't perish,
"Cause with my grandkids I can be.
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In the garden

I was a little stumped,
But not for long.
With a lot of persistence
That dead tree is gone.

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July 2013

I planted lots of flowers,
but the Sun is all gone.
I'm thankful for the colors
And the bright green lawn.

For the summers here are dismal
With skies in watery grays.
I long to feel the sunshine
With its warm comforting rays.

(As an after thought, I wrote the following:)

Why am I always complaining
About what the day has brought.
I need to be thankful
And deal with what I've got.
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February 14, 2015

Silly, Silly Daffodilies.
Sprouting up amongst the Lillies.
It's such a delight to see you grow,
Though In February, there should be falling snow.
(In the mountains, of course.)

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