Don't think I can compete with Frank, but I find it quite fun. As long as you don't think about and try to scrutinise what you write. Have another go GG.
Awakened today out of bed with a swing Here in the North the first day of Spring I know in the south Dafs have been and gone Mine still to flower to fill my heart with song
Now we can set to and sow the seeds Tackle the odd cheeky errant weed Get cracking with fork spade and hoe Prepare the beds ready to go
The seed boxes settled on sand that is warm A curtain to cover them keep them from harm Watch for the first shoots soft and green Of flower some carrot peas and bean
We in the North with our cold easterly breeze Learn to sit on our hands and take our ease It means being patient having to wait Something to be said for flowering late
When the South are all finished a final flush Our gardens up North are still verdant and lush With flowers and Veg beautiful fruit to eat I come to the conclusion the North can't be beat.
"Whoa" let this not become a battleground a place to vent your spleen It is supposed to be a gentle place for gardeners who are keen To tell the story of their war with disease bugs and weeds Not a place to don your armour and mount your battle steeds If you have problems with some poster who has a right to speak Then do it in some private place it is messages you seek.
Not by me - but I read this today and it seemed very appropriate for our forums - written about 160 years ago, by Henry David Thoreau, American author,poet and philosopher;
I once had a sparrow alight upon my shoulder
for a moment,
while I was hoeing in a village garden,
and I felt that I was more distinguished by that circumstance
Than I should have been by any epaulet I could have worn.
We may as well let this drop, it was not a competition only a way of expressing a love for gardening in our own words, my rubbish appears to be frightening some off. Why do some threads become battle grounds for people to snap at each other, my way if upset is ignore them, unless that is they are in range of a good thump, my attitude changes face to face, being incognito makes some brave it would seem. Anyway I am out.
Posts
Don't think I can compete with Frank, but I find it quite fun. As long as you don't think about and try to scrutinise what you write. Have another go GG.
If I do too much stream of consciousness writing, TT, I could get a bit too honest!
Awakened today out of bed with a swing
Here in the North the first day of Spring
I know in the south Dafs have been and gone
Mine still to flower to fill my heart with song
Now we can set to and sow the seeds
Tackle the odd cheeky errant weed
Get cracking with fork spade and hoe
Prepare the beds ready to go
The seed boxes settled on sand that is warm
A curtain to cover them keep them from harm
Watch for the first shoots soft and green
Of flower some carrot peas and bean
We in the North with our cold easterly breeze
Learn to sit on our hands and take our ease
It means being patient having to wait
Something to be said for flowering late
When the South are all finished a final flush
Our gardens up North are still verdant and lush
With flowers and Veg beautiful fruit to eat
I come to the conclusion the North can't be beat.
Frank.
I must go down to the shed again,
the lonely dark and damp shed,
I left my fork and shovel there,
I left them there with out care
and my hubby will go spare!
He moans on about Monty and then he gets a trouncing
Judging by past history it must be time for flouncing
He's on and off the boards so much always getting flak
Let's hope in the word of Charlie Drake this boomerang won't come back!
"Whoa" let this not become a battleground a place to vent your spleen
It is supposed to be a gentle place for gardeners who are keen
To tell the story of their war with disease bugs and weeds
Not a place to don your armour and mount your battle steeds
If you have problems with some poster who has a right to speak
Then do it in some private place it is messages you seek.
Frank.
Hear, Hear Frank. Some folk just love to stir up trouble and I don't like it at all.
Frank, you're a poet and you didn't know it!
I once had a sparrow alight upon my shoulder
for a moment,
while I was hoeing in a village garden,
and I felt that I was more distinguished by that circumstance
Than I should have been by any epaulet I could have worn.
We may as well let this drop, it was not a competition only a way of expressing a love for gardening in our own words, my rubbish appears to be frightening some off.
Why do some threads become battle grounds for people to snap at each other, my way if upset is ignore them, unless that is they are in range of a good thump, my attitude changes face to face, being incognito makes some brave it would seem.
Anyway I am out.
Frank.