Tag Archives: gardening

pretty mice all in a row

I dug the ground, I planted seed,
in the night, mice came to feed.
I bought more seed, planted again,
and in the night, yet more mice came.
Now I’m out of seed, and I’m out of nice,
I’ve laid the traps, and I’m planting mice.
and once I’ve planted a nice long row,
above the mice my seeds will grow.

and in ha’sonnet form for Stephen, here is the next episode:

I planted seed
all in a row.
The mice did feed,
no seed did grow.
Now planting mice
in rows all nice,
to feed the seed.

 

There is currently a mouse plague in western NSW. It’s not as bad here, but there are a lot more than usual. 

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less than half the story

I’ve been thinking about seeds a lot as I keep planting peas that get eaten by mice, and I’ve written a few poems about them. But pruning one into 44 words for Monday’s dVerse quadrille prompt “planting seeds” didn’t work for me. So I tried to think of what a seed is – enough genetic information for an organism (diploid), the machinery of a cell to start it all going (mitochondria, etc)… Did you know that mitochondrial DNA comes purely down the female line? Yours is the same as your mother’s, your grandmother’s, your great-grandmother’s, stretching back along a line of a hundred thousand women…

 

What arrogance,
what masculine conceit,
calling your semen ‘seed’!
Spill it on the ground,
wait for an army of sons to rise,
from those sad wrigglers –
haploid,
halfwit,
not even half the story.
Wait forever –
it’s not seed you sprayed,
just pollen.

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I’ll count my sweetpeas…

An envelope of optimism
arrived in the mail today.
A purchase made with wisdom?
I cannot as yet say.

Now they’re spread upon the table
all these packs of possibility
each neatly filled and labelled –
with hopes of harvests yet to be. Continue reading

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…and there were lilies: IV. choir

A choir of colour,
they raise their heads and open
their mouths to shout out
a hallelujah chorus
of silent, deafening joy. Continue reading

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…and there were lilies: III. Lady Alice

Lady Alice has recurved or reflexed petals, like the tigers. But is too refined to be in the same tub, and would never admit to being closely related to them. 

Lady Alice bobs
a curtsey to the breeze, and
turns her petals up –
a reflex she cannot help
when embarrassed by the bees.

This series of “…and there were lilies” poems is an epilogue to “jubilate lilium (let there be lilies”)

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…and there were lilies: II. Anastacia

In the same bathtub as the tigers, are some oriental lilies, including Anastacia. Anastacia has a lovely scent, very sweet, and beautiful pink blush and freckles. But she seemed a bit over-awed by the tigers, so I brought her inside for safety. 

So pretty in pink,
Anastacia cowers from
the grinning tigers,
orange against jungle green,
recurving talons readied. Continue reading

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…and there were lilies: I. tigers

Last year I put in lots of lily bulbs, and offered up a prayer on planting them. They have flowered spectacularly, and the possums have not found them (although the pig ate a few). Beginning at the end with my favourites, the tigers:

 

Burning tigers smile
and nod their heads, approving
of the summer rain.

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broad beans

Tucked up so tight
in softest down,
a darling sight!
So green and round!
Too sweet they look
for me to cook.
I’ll eat them raw.

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Spring haiku

Despite a last snap of winter’s teeth and a flurry of snow on the weekend, the first day of spring is definitely very springy!

20200901_102448 (2) Continue reading

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Revelation

In response to Eugi’s weekly prompt, “August“, and also inspired by VJ’s daffodils:20200805_084011

On the western front of winter,
at the eastern edge of spring
A seal of frost is broken…

Come and See:
they have risen,
haloed in gold. Continue reading

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