Dreaming Fruitfully Like A Flower Highbred
Quite simply, we gardeners plan ahead.
Dreaming fruitfully like a flower highbred.
What next; might rise out of the bed?
Shaking, its white frothy, button gold head.
It’s a heaven we’re planning, full of virtue.
And nothing but nothing less will—do!
So, yes—disappointment reigns.
As we view and extend our terrains.
But people stop in awe… and ponder…
What godly hand what godly creature.
Tilled this earth, rounded it at every corner.
People stop in awe… as they wonder…
Who was it, without a single footprint?
Trod this clay, and left not a single dint.
Knocked not but one single dewdrop off…
The Alchemilla Mollis, Lady’s Mantle, ‘quaff’…
“It’s me the gardener behind the water trough,
I’m friends with butterflies, and also a show-off.
Mark Heathcote's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Dreaming Fruitfully Like A Flower Highbred by Mark Heathcote )
- AnyThing In ReTurn, Kewayne Wadley
- If all we know is love, Mark Heathcote
- Remove Yourself From Bitterness, Ronell Warren Alman
- Fornicating In The Bowels Of Unswerving .., Captain Cur
- im not okay, Faith Taylors
- The world is like a worm, Mark Heathcote
- Our shared tear, Julie Shirley
- Conscious Peal, Adeosun Olamide
- Living Contradictions, Sandra Feldman
- Alley Church, Adeosun Olamide
Poem of the Day
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
- Heather Burns
(c. 600 BCE)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(1886 - 1967)