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in The potting shed
I really liked your poems, Frank and TT!
Don't think I can compete with Frank, but I find it quite fun. As long as you don't think about and try to scrutinise what you write. Have another go GG.
If I do too much stream of consciousness writing, TT, I could get a bit too honest!
Awakened today out of bed with a swingHere in the North the first day of SpringI know in the south Dafs have been and goneMine still to flower to fill my heart with song
Now we can set to and sow the seedsTackle the odd cheeky errant weedGet cracking with fork spade and hoePrepare the beds ready to go
The seed boxes settled on sand that is warmA curtain to cover them keep them from harmWatch for the first shoots soft and greenOf flower some carrot peas and bean
We in the North with our cold easterly breezeLearn to sit on our hands and take our easeIt means being patient having to waitSomething to be said for flowering late
When the South are all finished a final flushOur gardens up North are still verdant and lushWith flowers and Veg beautiful fruit to eatI come to the conclusion the North can't be beat.
I must go down to the shed again,
the lonely dark and damp shed,
I left my fork and shovel there,
I left them there with out care
and my hubby will go spare!
"Whoa" let this not become a battleground a place to vent your spleenIt is supposed to be a gentle place for gardeners who are keenTo tell the story of their war with disease bugs and weedsNot a place to don your armour and mount your battle steedsIf you have problems with some poster who has a right to speakThen do it in some private place it is messages you seek.Frank.
Hear, Hear Frank. Some folk just love to stir up trouble and I don't like it at all.
Frank, you're a poet and you didn't know it!
We may as well let this drop, it was not a competition only a way of expressing a love for gardening in our own words, my rubbish appears to be frightening some off.Why do some threads become battle grounds for people to snap at each other, my way if upset is ignore them, unless that is they are in range of a good thump, my attitude changes face to face, being incognito makes some brave it would seem.Anyway I am out.
I personally was subjected to unpleasantness from a member on this forum, just because I posted something they didn't agree with. I don't always agree with what is posted, but it's their opinion and who am to challenge it. Each to their own.
Why do I love my friends?
What special thing distinguishes them from others?
Why am I safe with some?
Some spark is struck when we first talk
Maybe some common bond, some trait we had not suspected.
Acceptance, warmth encourage the spark into a flame.
A common humour, commonsense,
Each becoming more human in the other's company.
Common hostility also makes a bond,
but it is only a pale illusion of true fellowship.
Lets forge friendship where we can,
Trusted and trustworthy.
Hello Sally. I haven't seen your name on this forum before so if you are new, welcome. If not, I'm an idiot.
I thought that extremely poignant GG. Really liked it.
I liked your poem, Sally. Keep up the good work!
Sally that is what this thread should beA message that comes from the heartMakes you want to shout with gleeEach and every time you make a startTo get out all the tools gloves rubber bootsThe job to lovingly devide old plants to take apartGently cultivate from seed watch the new born shootsListen to the sounds that every garden makesWhisper of a cooling breeze Rattling dry seed headThe pleasure of seeing birds on ground freshly rakedAnd joy of sitting with a glass before retiring to bed.