Wednesday, 2 April 2008

We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stairs

Gardens seem to inspire people to write verse.

Myself included.

My garden sings to me,
In symphonies,
That make whalesong,
Sound like geese.

I was very proud of that when I wrote it.

It wasn't until I'd recited it to a good number of people (some more than once), that someone took me aside and said, “Look, I know you love your garden, but your poetry stinks.”

“OK” I said, “How about this? -
There was a young actress from Kew,
Who said as the Bishop..."

I digress - sorry - the question is, which blog contains gardening-inspired poetry that should, with the best will in the world, be consigned to the compost heap.


Anonymous said...

This is quite bad - and the author agrees

Pedro from Portsmouth said...

I like this blog. It is interesting and read it regularly. But, much as I hate to say it, this particular poem is a bit dire.

JamesA-S said...

This is a large collection of dreadful poems (interspersed with strange links - if you click on the highlighted word 'Flowers' you get an advertisement for lawn mowers, on 'Orchid" and you get a singing frog selling fertiliser).
Still, I suppose it distracts from the poetry.

PedrofromPortsmouth said...

Sorry, forgot the link:

emmat said...

Oh My God. That backyard gardener page! Yikes!$£$^&*$£&

What would you call that rhythm - ta-tum-ti-tum-ti-tum-ti-tum? It's only ever used for really sentimental poetry about puppies and now, I realise, trilliums.

I am going away to work on my sonnet "On the Constant Reclassification of Chrysanthemums"

JamesA-S said...

This spans two categories Cats and Ghastly Poetry.
I realise that the garden connection is wafer thin but it does mention Leaves
I hope that a scarcity of horticulture is more than made up for by the quality of the verse.

(Fleur Puss)

Thank you, God, for harvest-time,

For milk, for meat, for fish,

Thank you, God, for all the food,

I find upon my dish.

Thank you, God, for Autumn time,

When leaves come tumbling down,

Thank you for their pretty colours,

Red, and gold, and brown.

Thank you, God, for giving me,

A lovely coat of fur,

Thank you, God, that I can talk

By means of mew and purr.

Thank you for my happy home,

Where love and care abound;

Thank you for its warmth and comfort,

Always to be found.

Thank you, God, for all the gifts,

That life has given me;

Dear God, who made us all, I raise

My humble paws to Thee.

Anonymous said...

VP - but only because she says its bad poetry.