Today, a poem...
Violets, bluegrass, clover and rye Fescue, dandelions, my oh my Together they dance, wild and free The ripples of wind are plain to see This frolic of springtime so happy and gay Joyous new growth, see nature at play So it is with reluctance I start the machine The whine of the engine, commands of my queen I hop on my steed, head down a straight line The blades cut, rip and chew all that they find Short and neat all in a row A flagship of order ready to show This too is rewarding it’s all organized now But I somehow feel guilty but I don’t know how I conquered the yard, bent it to my will But seeing it wild was more of a thrill The neighbors would grumble and call us a name Like Hillbilly, or backward and something more lame So to keep up with the jones, the smiths and Van Dykes I’ll mow the lawn… but not as much as they like And when the flowers are particularly bright? Well, I just won’t do it as often as I might So come join the dance and be wild and free Listen to the chorus of the bird, wind and bee.
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AuthorSteven Van Haitsma Archives
June 2015
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