When the sun through clouds creeps
And warm beams the soils do dry
It is like a sweet regeneration
As freshly watered plants reach to sunlit sky
Pathways steam in the warming sun
And flowers their blooms stretch open
All is refreshed and new again
And sound returns to the solar fountain
Its splash and trickle instead of the rain
At least until the clouds return again
Padre
A labour of love
Bringing forth exquisite tastes and smells
Tomatoes plump and red, the table to grace
As purple lavender perfume the heart does swell
Bees intent of their daily chores
As butterflies flit among the blossoms as well
And I sit upon the bench, and take in my accomplishments sweet
And ignore the few incroaching weeds, and that annoying passing snail
Padre
Purple
Hazy carpet
Scent enriching the air
Majestic lavender perfume
Found there
To brush
To crush or pick
Brings heavenly release
As the violet field yields bliss
For me
Join me
In my journey
Into the place of bloom
And we will share its sweet treasure
Today
Padre
Colleen’s challenge is to “Pick a Flower” and using one of the syllabic forms we use, tell us why it is special to you.“
Empty, waiting, surplus to need
Baked clay pot as yet surplus
What shall it next contain?
What blooms or veg will it bear?
Springtime will answer all
When green fingers give the lead
Padre
Padre
Gardens are not all things of beauty
Refuges of flowers and veg
Many are spaces merely hidden
Behind a fence or hedge
But on these blank canvases of promise
Green fingers work their tricks
And soon wondrous things do bloom
Where before was only sticks
Padre
image: Copyright Padre’s Rambling
Sitting in the summer house –
Taking in the view
Of the Garden
Homeward towards
Pleasant memories renewed
This vision of tranquility
From the garden haven bright
Like that in Eden’s prime
A time of Adam’s delight
Why do we love our gardens so?
Why do they – we attend?
I think if you view this window scene
You will our pleasure comprehend
Padre
Poetics: Looking out the window
Pixabay
Veranda,
Pergola,
Gazebo,
Garden bowers –
No matter
What you call
The thing
In lovely when it showers
Padre
Pixabay
Among the heliotrope and pansies
Sprites and Pixies dance – when we’re away
Our green-fingered efforts
In which we take such pride
They smile broadly at –
Then true magic they display
They giggle at our arrogance
Our endeavours they deride
They think it such jolly sport
To conjure blossom when we’re inside
The Fairies chase, and sing, and play
Cover taking when e’re we appear
Amid the sweet scents of rich perfume
Wishing for our exit – swift
Their merry games to resume
Padre
Garden In KweKwe Tripadvisor
In Que Que of old
In gardens bright green
Violet and periwinkle butterflies do play
A dozen but one simian spectators observe
As the bright féileacáns flutter away
Padre
Prompted by the colours purple and bright green, the number eleven, the place Kwe Kwe, and the animal monkey.
Padre's Ramblings 