I have a garden
I now raise dirt,
grows all year
no longer hurts
Harvest time
is everyday
unless it rains,
I stay away
On occasion
the weeds I pluck
so my dirt more
water can suck
My dirt is strong
it never dies
looks hearty to me
but not to all eyes
It loves the sun
the heat and rain
no longer is it
my earthly bane!
I have a neighbor I adore-a
oh so sweet
tis Ms. Lora
Hopin' she'll bring
her bag of seeds
perhaps we'll sit
n smoke some weed,
plant them well
real jolly be
Wait and see
what happens
come Spring!
Here's to tending your garden....finding relaxation in the seeding of your soil. Sounds like a fine way to spend the day! Which reminds me...I now must clean beneath my fingernails, having, too, spent the day in the dirt! PEACE
If I boast of my flowers Would you be impressed? Of dirt, you seem to have A bountiful harvest, My flowers and veggies I planted with love, The rain and the sun Nourish them from above, I'll give you some seed...... How about a bag full? My weeds I don't smoke..... I just kill or pull! Couldn't resist this! Loved your poem - lots of fun. Seriously, you've got to start growing something in that dirt!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Understand completely. Have a dirt garden myself... maybe your seed, ... then all will be well. But don't forget, the Baby Boomers too. I'm telling you your bidding, they will do. So many suffered so long, maybe sometimes bitter to the taste, especially if they feel you've let their life go to waste. Oh please hear us, our numbers are strong. But weary are we from suffering long. And until you are manifest we'll be suffering still. Please oh please, our wounds do heal. Not just those seen, but also those hidden. So many heeding that some things must be forbidden. See about such things the dirt yet does not know. Remember the seeds you sowed so long ago. So before preferring the dirt, please perceive the rose. Do this thing and all love will grow.