We have a garden that we do nothing to/with/for/about. Absolutely nothing. There's an irrigation system that waters it, but that's it. Still, we haven't managed to kill anything since we moved in 5 years ago.
Miraculously, some new flowers bloomed today, undoubtedly in honor of Our Royal Birthday. Unfortunately for them, nothing pisses me off like flowers. They attract bees. I hate bees. Thus, I was inspired to create this poem for the bothersome buds (just in case they already haven't gotten the hint):
Violets (or whatever the hell these are) are blue.
Roses are red.
If either required effort,
They'd all be dead.
Comments (6)
That's a really moving poem. Unfortunately, I moved my bowels, and now I need a colonoscopy.
Posted by Robin | August 31, 2010 8:11 PM
Posted on August 31, 2010 20:11
You do have quite a way with words, Robin.
Posted by Doreen | August 31, 2010 9:50 PM
Posted on August 31, 2010 21:50
Ah, our next poet laureate I suspect! You write with truth, if not beauty!
Happy Birthday-- can't believe I nearly missed it!
Posted by Leah Rubin | August 31, 2010 10:09 PM
Posted on August 31, 2010 22:09
Thanks, Leah.
The Queen as Poet Laureate? Somehow, I doubt that would fly, although I do love the thought!
Posted by Doreen | August 31, 2010 10:18 PM
Posted on August 31, 2010 22:18
Well its a good thing you are good with clever prose because you'd never feed yourself as a poet (or apparently as a gardener either). Happy Birthday, Queen!
Posted by annette baesel | September 4, 2010 10:11 PM
Posted on September 4, 2010 22:11
I'd definitely starve as a poet, but then again, don't they all?
Thanks for the bday wishes!
Posted by Doreen | September 5, 2010 1:42 PM
Posted on September 5, 2010 13:42