ABPA - Australian Bush Poets Association

I thought I had better post this in response to Virgil Glebsen (though I wrote it a week or so before Neville posted it).


Weeding

I gazed at the bed.
It was watered and fed,
But there still was one thing it was needing –
Not a total reboot,
Not a strip and uproot,
But it surely could do with some weeding!

It’s a boon. It’s a balm.
It helps you keep calm.
It slows you right down if you’re speeding.
I felt rather glad
That the bed looked so bad,
That it needed a good spot of weeding.

I started at dawn,
Kneeling down on the lawn.
By midday, the weeds were receding.
I felt good inside.
I was glowing with pride.
How happy it made me, this weeding!

I simply pressed on
As the summer sun shone.
By sundown, my fingers were bleeding,
While the back of my neck
Was sunburnt. What the heck!
I cared not a jot! I was weeding!

I do have to say
I was sorry next day,
And some medical care, I was needing.
But when all’s said and done,
It was fabulous fun.
One of life’s greatest pleasures is weeding!

© Stephen Whiteside 23.04.2018

Love it, Stephen! A great example of how something as "mundane" as weeding can be transformed into poetry!

Though I have to say, gardening is not my forte - and for me, weeding is a bit of a chore!

Cheers
Shelley

Thanks, Shelley. I think there is something a bit zen about weeding.

I love it too, Stephen! A most enjoyable read. My skill with gardening matches Shelley's by the sounds of it, but I do appreciate the great satisfaction in weeding.... Mind you, Dad didn't when I was about twelve and tried to help, pulling out his prize tulips in the process! So in his latter years when I weeded his garden, I always checked with him first

A nice bouncy rhythm there Stephen, just the thing for energetic work.

Thanks, Catherine and Neville.

Yes, Catherine, I can recall a spectacular weeding error, too!