The foxgloves are ready to bloom...
without my "green-fingers," or even my hand.
Every year, a purple display,
with white ones dotted around, so gay.
With the help of the insects and fuzzy young bees,
they'll all produce a million seeds.
These will be scattered all over the borders,
and pop up next year, when Springtime orders.
All this and more goes on in my land,
I ponder it all and can't understand,
this wondrous growth, without weeding or raking,
another miracle of nature, God's own making.
It's such a joy to stand and gloat,
as the bees climb up each dappled throat.
I'm watching each day to see which will be first,
of these woodland delights, into flower to burst!
Poetry by normalil
Read 591 times
Written on 2007-05-11 at 14:57
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Foxgloves
Tall along the border they stand,without my "green-fingers," or even my hand.
Every year, a purple display,
with white ones dotted around, so gay.
With the help of the insects and fuzzy young bees,
they'll all produce a million seeds.
These will be scattered all over the borders,
and pop up next year, when Springtime orders.
All this and more goes on in my land,
I ponder it all and can't understand,
this wondrous growth, without weeding or raking,
another miracle of nature, God's own making.
It's such a joy to stand and gloat,
as the bees climb up each dappled throat.
I'm watching each day to see which will be first,
of these woodland delights, into flower to burst!
Poetry by normalil
Read 591 times
Written on 2007-05-11 at 14:57
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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penfold18 |
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Hagzissa |
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Rob Graber |
