A vacant lot
A country lane
The footpath by the river
Slow down
Look close
There is plenty of time
First color
Daffodil gold
Shrugging off her ermine coat of snow
In the ditch
Facing south
The purple loosestrife too impatient for April
Queen Annes' lace
Rules the meadow
In the same exquisite gown her mother wore
No hothouse
No nursery
No frail supermodel orchid or even rose
No fertilizer
No insecticide
Their Gardener is nowhere to be seen
High summer
Song-birds and cicadas
The mower comes along to clear the mess
No sorrow
No tears
We'll all be back in the spring
Unnoticed
Unwanted
Who are they to call us weeds?
oops, sorry for the double-post.
Jack, Nice poem,especially liked the stanza about Queen Annes' lace. jhs
I enjoyed the walk, I could hear the birds, smell the flowers, and feel the warmth of the first days of Spring. Nice Jack. I'll be dreaming of purple loosestrife again. JP
Good poem Jack,
My roommate and friend David and I have a running arguement over just such a topic.
I love Morning Glories, but to him they will always be a weed. When he mows he goes right over them where ever he can, and when I mow, I go carefully around them.
I find them pretty and elegant, and David finds them simply a pest.
In our own ways we are both right. Weeds are a matter of perspective.
A neighbour once said to me; "A weed is anything that YOU don't want."
Brucefur
I gotta tell him the mule is pulling again.
He should know already Terry, he was part of the facebook thread I started that got KQ, QueenB and Nutmeg back here.
I DO need to post something for John Summers and Thorn though.
What about that Limey gal, anybody heard from her?
Les
Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 03/22/2013 01:34PM by les712.
I was in touch with her for quite a while, but she has fallen off the radar.