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Array ( [sid] => 34391 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Memories of an Amateur Gardener [time] => 2004-02-09 14:02:13 [hometext] => I've succeeded in writing something not morbid for a change although when I think of this I just feel like slashing... [bodytext] => I sat in the garden as a young girl
Digging mud into plastic containers
And serving it with water to my parents
Aflame with interest for their clarty meal

In the summer the rose arch
Was ablaze with riotous colour
And straggly as a beard

I remember sweltering days at Grandma's
Popping open the fuchsia flowers
And savouring their scent
With pollen yellow fingers

My friend and I made a restaurant
Creating with things from the compost heap
Smelling like polecats as we rummaged
In the rot
A bee chased us from our fetid cuisine
And we ran screaming to the patio

One winter, after heavy snow-fall
I made a snow lump
They laughed as I added a carrot
And gobbets of coal for eyes
The carrot was fresh but
The coal I had saved from a summer excursion
Willing it to snow

There were hazy summer days
Sat in the shade of the large
Privet hedge
Drinking tea out of china cups with saucers
And chilly mornings filling the bird feeders
In Grandma's back garden
The frogs croaking in next door's water feature

I used to pick Nana's raspberries in early autumn
Squeezing the juicy bulge between my fat fingers
Picking until my basket and stomach were full
And my tongue pink with berry juice
Proud of my harvest I bore it
On unsteady legs to Nana
Who made jam
And let me eat the rest with sugar [comments] => 2 [counter] => 209 [topic] => 21 [informant] => aboutdesouffle [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems )

Memories of an Amateur Gardener

Contributed by aboutdesouffle on Monday, 9th February 2004 @ 02:02:13 PM in AEST
Topic: Lifepoems

I sat in the garden as a young girl
Digging mud into plastic containers
And serving it with water to my parents
Aflame with interest for their clarty meal

In the summer the rose arch
Was ablaze with riotous colour
And straggly as a beard

I remember sweltering days at Grandma's
Popping open the fuchsia flowers
And savouring their scent
With pollen yellow fingers

My friend and I made a restaurant
Creating with things from the compost heap
Smelling like polecats as we rummaged
In the rot
A bee chased us from our fetid cuisine
And we ran screaming to the patio

One winter, after heavy snow-fall
I made a snow lump
They laughed as I added a carrot
And gobbets of coal for eyes
The carrot was fresh but
The coal I had saved from a summer excursion
Willing it to snow

There were hazy summer days
Sat in the shade of the large
Privet hedge
Drinking tea out of china cups with saucers
And chilly mornings filling the bird feeders
In Grandma's back garden
The frogs croaking in next door's water feature

I used to pick Nana's raspberries in early autumn
Squeezing the juicy bulge between my fat fingers
Picking until my basket and stomach were full
And my tongue pink with berry juice
Proud of my harvest I bore it
On unsteady legs to Nana
Who made jam
And let me eat the rest with sugar

Copyright © aboutdesouffle ... [ 2004-02-09 14:02:13]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: Memories of an Amateur Gardener (User Rating: 1 )
by bernard on Monday, 9th February 2004 @ 02:15:33 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

Good nostalgic poem I like the trip down memory lane. Thanks for the good read. have a great day now from bernard.

Re: Memories of an Amateur Gardener (User Rating: 1 )
by Kie on Monday, 9th February 2004 @ 09:35:52 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

Awww this is so sweet! I loved this poem. You painted a picture in my mind. Precious memories you shared, thank you. Kie

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