Encouraging the expression not altered by time,
The infant smile, pure and unprejudiced.
The Lawn’s Lament
Sue Davies
Oh no, here he comes again,
Why me?
Wouldn’t you have thought
He could find somewhere else to wee.
I am becoming shrivelled and brown
and there is nothing I can do.
My brothers and sisters around me
all feel the same way too.
Oh Ted, I know that
is your name;
for she calls you and asks if
you want to play a game.
Please leave me alone
and let me be,
Why, oh why, don’t you go
Inspired by “Garden Lore” - Brian Patten
It starts:
Who will take care of this garden, who will nurture it?
'I will anchor it to the earth with snowdrops.
I will give it my stone, the garnet.'
Twelve
Hilary Robinson
For Twinks who likes rhyme and rhythm
January
Game foxhounds sing in the short afternoons
Ice on black puddles crack loud with horse hooves.
Cold owls shriek too-whit too-whit too-whoo
Frogs sleep tightly under the frozen pool.
February
Green leaves uncurl in the dark roots of trees,
Snowdrops and primroses feel at their ease
Shrug their shoulders and begin to awake.
Ducks fly plaintively over murky lakes.
March
Rabbits and squirrels rush fast out in the sun
Hares spring up boldly and look for sex fun,
Boxing games, fists up, romps on the good earth -
Who’ll give up, belly flop and run off first?
April
Badgers climb out of their yuck winter's lair
Cuckoos torment and hide in thin air.
Scuttling hedgehogs dive wild across roads,
Fools beckon in shadows to crying toads.
May
Wifely, “Cast not a clout till May is out.”
Thrushes, sparrows, chaffinches, blackbirds shout,
“Our nests are built and our eggs are all laid.”
But the cuckoo has come and made his raid.
June
Columbines dance to a slow fairy tune,
Roses smell so sweet in their fullest bloom
Longest day elderflowers shake in fear
Is it down, down, down the rest of the year?
July
Buzzards mew piercing the deep, deep blue sky
Ripe berries make chutney, jelly and pie,
Apples stored lovingly, hay in the lofts
Golden Rod, Poppies red, silky and soft.
August
Midges bite hard and horse flies are crazy,
Sun burns the skin and we all feel lazy.
Corn fields grow quickly and ripen daily
Wheat turns golden and then whitens palely
September
The big red moon wanes and harvests are done
Days grow shorter and weaker grows the sun.
Twittering swallows come and fly away
Swifts disappear, gone in a day.
October
The hunter moon looms and the winds grow chill
Grey shadows spread over the purple hill.
Cubbing begins and the horses grow fit
Wood is collected and fires are lit.
November
Fireworks bang, crash and light up the sky
Catherine wheels spinning and rockets fly high.
Frost etches glass panes and whitens brown grass,
Wild geese scream and excitedly pass.
December
Wrens and robins look wistful but still sing,
Carols are chanted and church bells we ring.
Christmas stars gleam in the wintry night
Mistletoe, holly, ivy, love and light.
Garden Magic
Hazel Pope
An hour a day at least
To keep the weeds at bay
And increase the production line by sowing seeds
Against the day when frost and rain
Change ephemeral summer veg
To sprouts and sprouting broccoli and kale.
So this is supposed to be a daily drudge.
Which I enjoy. It's thinking time,
Observing time. I tidy edges with a spade,
Turn up a gem. A shard of something made
So many years ago. A blue chinese person with a fan.
Behind, a bridge. A token tree- the pottery curves
A broad segment. I try to imagine
A jug, a bowl, quite large.
This shard, a gem.
