Sunday, June 10, 2018



Too many times
flowers planted
with human hands
are plunged
into straight beds
and then it happens
the hands begin
they hoard the seeds
change the colors
pinch the tops
force the blooms
starve the roots
withhold the water
plant too shallow
cut too close
exhaust the soil
destroy the whole
decay the center.

The contrast, then,
with mother nature
who stands back
and does nothing while
tendril roots gather
beauty just happens
bee dust lands
on deer antlers
twirled by the wind
from the tube
of a flower
purity of color
pungent scent of
rotting blossoms
center spikes of seed
bursting to wild weed
wrenched roots
on winding, crooked
tree trails that
wander, ramble
sprawl, meander.

Apps used for photo edit: Waterlogue, iColorama, Mextures.


  1. We are like the inept gardens to Mother of God Nature.

  2. "beauty just happens" This line is the soul of the poem. How I love when this "wander, ramble / sprawl, meander" go on. Delightful!

  3. Oh gosh this is absolutely mesmerizing!💜

  4. I do love nature's wild garden so much more than cultivated ones. Love your beautiful image too.

  5. Yes.. I want my garden to be wild... the only thing I do to help it is to use a scythe when everything's bloomed... we can help nature if we know what to do.

    With trees and bloom our garden is a concert of birds.

  6. Beautifully expressed ! Nature has it's own beautiful, mysterious way...always !

  7. Mother Nature is definitely the superior gardenwr. And as your poem implies, we can learn from her.

  8. A lot of negative and positive nature in this piece I was up and down with its "beauty"...if that was your intention, good work.

  9. Mother nature -just doing her thing. I love your descriptions.

  10. Yes, the garden knows what it wants, she often plays a trick with a new bloom not planted by me! It must have wandered from an neighbour and was looked after here!

  11. True true.. much better to allow things to fall in place than try to manicure everything to some artificial perfection!!