There’s something in the rain
There’s something in the rain
that makes my plants jump
and there are beans
growing in a row in stools
and tomatoes that stand around in small bushes
and beetroot everywhere
and there are carrots
growing between the other vegetables
and onions pushing out fingers
like grasses,
but the spinach
fills the whole place
and at the end of the garden
there’s parsley coming out in places.
At times I wonder if the Creator
is also as happy and excited
about His earth
and if everything
makes a impact in his heart
and I see the wonders
of His magnificent works
in the world around me.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
My plants
My plants
are eaten
by all kinds of vermin.
There are golden beetles
that reaps
the leaves of the beans,
brown buzzing beetles turning in the air
around the tomatoes,
snails that can’t wait
and demolish the leaves
of beans, spinach
and tomatoes.
Indian miners
that feast in their beaks
as if every thing belongs to them.
Even poison that I spread out
doesn’t help a bit
and plants from Mrs. Roberts
that should keep such things in check
grows rampant
and after rains
there are weeds
everywhere,
as if my garden
was prepared only for them.
Even one of the taps breaks
causing water to spray without end
and I have trouble
to bind it down
and have to go to Builders
to get a new one
and this garden man gets fed up
and wants to pull
all of the vegetables out
one by one
and put something else
like flowers into that ground,
until my darling says:
“thank you for the beans,
spinach, carrots and tomatoes
that you placed in the bowls,
can I get a bit of parsley
to put in the salad? ”
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The greatest thing
I put the seed
into ground that I
mingled with dark black compost.
Rows of beans,
some carrots, some pumpkins
and spinach
I sowed into the orange brown earth.
Some small tomato plants,
I planted in blocks
and pressed small
frames of reeds
on top
for them to crawl over.
Every day I sprayed water
and tended the weeds
and in time
little green plants
sprang out of the ground
and the tomatoes crept
and crawled all over
their reeds.
It was great to be part
of spring and see
living things sprout
from the ground,
but a dog dug
some carrots out
and a flock of mice
came to eat
tomatoes from the plants.
Yet in time
some great vegetables
came to my table
and spring was awesome
and so was summer
and to tend my own garden
is the greatest thing.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You cook vegetable soup
You cook vegetable soup
and I look at you
while you cut green beans,
carrots, onions, celery, parsley
and tomatoes into two pots.
There are herbs, spices
and pepper that you are scattering
and two types of soup powder
that you throw in
and the pots steam and buzz
while I am washing the dishes
and the smell
makes me hungry
and I wonder
if the soup
are going to taste as good
as it smells.
We drink tee
and there’s medicine
that you give for flu
to me
and it’s great
to be with you
to read the look
in your beautiful eyes.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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0011 Scrubbing Carrots
Every Friday, a happy smiling man
who says he’s a mixture of Spain, Trinidad and England
delivers a bag of organic vegetables
and a bag of organic fruit, and
it’s a bit like a child’s Christmas bran-tub adventure –
some strange vegetables I’ve never seen before
and would never have dared to buy;
or eat, if I found them growing in the garden…
but it’s worth it for the carrots alone –
they taste, well, OK, like carrots used to taste..
and each week, they come from a different grower, so
they arrive clean and smooth one week,
clotted with earth another, but
as Rilke might say, rich with carrot-ness..
and I clean them with a respect which they
and the sheer living greenness of the greens
and other vegetables naturally demand of me
so that vegetable-cleaning
which used to be a chore done with attention
only at half strength, is now something more -
and in this mood, almost overlooked small great miracles of life
just happen of themselves –
two weeks ago, I watched amazed
as my two hands of themselves
devised a new way of cleaning carrots –
the hands reversed their roles: left hand
now held the scouring pad, diagonally,
and the right hand spiralled the carrot
in the pad… and lo! those etched horizontal lines
of dirt were perfectly removed..
and the isness of the carrot
and the isness of its servant
were together one silent song
where, it seemed,
the forgotten met the remembered
and rejoiced.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Smalltown
When youre growing up in a small town
When youre growing up in a small town
When youre growing up in a small town
You say, no one famous ever came from here
When youre growing up in a small town
And youre having a nervous breakdown
And you think that youll never escape it
Yourself or the place that you live
Where did picasso come from
Theres no michelangelo coming from pittsburgh
If art is the tip of the iceberg
Im the part sinking below
When youre growing up in a small town
Bad skin, bad eyes, gay and fatty
People look at you funny
When youre in a small town
My father worked in construction
Its not something for which Im suited
Oh, what is something for which you are suited
Getting out of here
I hate being odd in a small town
If they stare let them stare in new york city
As this pink eyed painting albino
How far can my fantasy go
Im no dali coming from pittsburgh
No adorable lisping capote
My hero, oh, do you think I could meet him
Id camp out at his front door
There is only one good thing about small town
There is only one good use for a small town
There is only one good thing about small town
You know that you want to get out
When youre growing up in a small town
You know youll grow down in a small town
There is only one good use for a small town
You hate it and youll know you have to leave
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Hope He Makes You Happy
I hope he makes you happy
As I look in your direction
As the tears stream from my eyes
Trying to forget
All the memories deep inside
I hope he makes you happy
As the wind blows you away from me
As the sun goes off my face
Wondering if you remember
All the times you held me tight
I hope he makes you happy
As rain clouds cover the sun
As teardrops make the rain
Trying to prevent
All the love I feel within
I hope he makes you happy
As the ocean washes me away
As sand castles get destroyed
Wondering if you will forget
All the times you touched my skin
I hope he makes you happy
As petals begin to fall
As my heart begins to break
I hope he makes you happy
Like you did me
poem by Jeremy Rodriguez
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We couldn’t find spinach anywhere
We couldn’t find spinach anywhere,
not at the Fruit and Veg
or other green grocers
or even at chain stores
like Pick-a-Pay, Checkers,
Shoprite and Woolworths.
“It must be out of season, ”
I told my darling
who had returned the green beans
and so we didn’t have
any green vegetables
and joking I told her
that we will get scurvy.
Passing a traffic light
in the inner city
she saw a hawker
selling vegetables
with packets and packets of spinach.
She told me to stop
and I parked next
to the road
across from him,
but before I could get out
of the car
he was already there
with a selection
of vegetables
at great prices.
That night my darling
prepared her special dish
with chicken, spinach
and feta cheese
fried in a great sauce
and served it with a bottle
of St. Anna wine
and my thoughts went to
the little smiling hawker
who made our day.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Our Marriage Is Our Garden
Our marriage is our garden.
I want our garden to be beautiful.
With lush green grass,
With fragrant and colourful flowers.
A place of solace.
A place of peace.
A place of love.
Our garden must be watered.
Not watered too much.
As that would saturate the ground.
Not watered too little.
As that would leave the plants wilted.
And our grass barren.
But regularly.
So the flowers can stand tall
It must be weeded.
It must be maintained.
It must be loved.
We will plant seeds in our garden.
For new life makes any garden more beautiful and diverse.
We can harvest the fruit trees, but our harvest is limited
If we eat all the fruit too quick,
Then we must wait until the next harvest to eat again.
If we don't pick the fruit when it is right, it will spoil.
Our harvest is for our family.
If I eat all the fruit myself, then they will starve.
If we eat too much we will get sick.
If we eat what we are supposed to, then we will be healthy.
If we do not monitor the fruit,
Then someone might eat more than their share.
If we do not stand guard in our garden,
A thief might come into the garden to steal our fruit.
The fruit for our family.
For their garden must be barren and their crops have spoiled.
Our garden will stand the test of all seasons.
As all gardens do.
Another garden will also experience the same seasons.
Just at different times.
All gardens face rain.
All gardens get sun.
It is the rain that nourishes the garden and helps it's life to grow.
But our garden must be maintained regularly.
Only artificial things require no maintenance.
The artificial has no life.
It is fake, it is plastic.
Our garden needs to be real.
So life may grow and continue to grow.
So one day our children can enjoy a garden of their own.
For them and their children.
May their garden be overflowing with life and love.
And be the most beautiful garden in the world.
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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We Are The Vegetables
Well I've got this feeling in the back of my head
I feel like making someone's face turn red
Learning bike's and ditto vices
Try to look bored and your going places
We are the vegetables
We are the vegetables
We are the vegetables
We are the vegetables
Some music is playing by metal gazers
It's gone through the stage where everyone makes it
Do you think that we're not good
All I really know is I think you should
We are the vegetables
We are the vegetables
We are the vegetables
We are the vegetables
Well I've got this feeling in the back of my head
I feel like making someone's face turn red
Learning bikes and ditto vices
Try to look bored and your going places
We are the vegetables
We are the vegetables
We are the vegetables
We are the
We are the
We Are The Vegetables
Submitted by Michael Hack
song performed by by INXS
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The three is growing now
From another land
From another aid of a hand
Where dry seasons is like fall
Where the bushes are green and tall
The tree is growing now
Into the sea and out of the sunset
Where great tides are known to set
Where the wind blow as hard and cold
I see no rain, or loam of soil to call gold
But the tree is growing now
Fro and to the blue of the cloud
Where the storm is as loud
The heart weeps and sleeps as fair
The children are as timid as au pair
But the tree is growing now
Into the cemetery and out of the ground
Where the death is as lavish as soothing sound
The lost is moaned, and the living is brave
The woman is running to ease her grave
But the tree is growing now
From the birth of a child
Where he play his part as mild
The world was sweet as a lime
And the years, days, with all the time
But the tree is still growing now
poem by william Dadeah Jr.
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Towards Perfect Holiness
The more holy, I try to be,
The more temptations seem to come;
I query why unfair to me,
Is God to my people, my home!
The more I pray, I fall in sin,
I ask whither my prayers have gone!
I grumble why cannot I win;
Am I on earth just all alone?
The truth I ponder and find out;
The love of God is growing more;
He cares for me without a doubt,
And wants me better than before!
The Holy God wants me holy;
A perfect Lord makes me perfect;
His grace works wonders most truly;
And Satan’s works I now reject.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 22-07-11
poem by John Celes
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Albert's Allotment
Albert loved being on his allotment
he'd be on his plot everyday of the week
growing Cauliflower, Parsnip, Cabbage,
and winning awards for his Carrots, and Leek.
He spent so much time on his allotment
his wife thought he was having an affair
but Albert was more interested in his Potatoes
than any curvy woman with long Blonde hair.
When it rained Albert sat in his shed
reading Gardening books and having a cuppa
then he'd be out again digging for hours
till his wife called him in for his supper.
Albert liked growing all sorts of vegetables
but his favourite of the lot was the Marrow
he could grow them so big and so large
that some wouldn't fit into his Wheelbarrow.
Albert is buried down on his beloved allotment
as that was to be his final dying wish
when tearfully his wife asked him why he replied:
'So I can keep an eye on my Runner Beans and Radish! '
poem by Kevin Halls
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Give Me That Loot
Give me that loot that you get.
The kind that fills up pockets.
The kind that makes one rich...
And can pay for all my habits.
And...
Give me that loot that you get.
The kind that fills up pockets.
The kind that makes one rich...
And can pay for all my habits.
These times I forsake steak.
And potatoes made to taste.
With gravy and glazed onions I would love.
These times I forsake cake...
Yellow, pound or chocolate made.
But I dream of having brownies...
With some lemonaide.
Give me that loot that you get.
The kind that fills up pockets.
The kind that makes one rich...
And can pay for all my habits.
Give me that loot that you get.
The kind that fills up pockets.
The kind that makes one rich...
And can pay for all my habits.
I've tightened up my loosened belt...
Not to miss a single loop.
I think of having juice or cool-aid...
But a bowl of noodle soup will do!
These times I forsake steak.
And potatoes made to taste.
With gravy and glazed onions I would love.
These times I forsake cake...
Yellow, pound or chocolate made.
But I dream of having brownies...
With some lemonaide would just be great!
Give me that.
Give me that.
Give me that.
Give me that.
Give me that loot that you get.
The kind that fills up pockets.
The kind that makes one rich...
And can pay for all my habits.
Give me that loot that you get.
The kind that fills up pockets.
The kind that makes one rich...
And can pay for all my habits.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Home Grown Tomatoes
There aint nothin in the world that I like better than bacon n lettuce n
Home grown tomatoes up in the mornin, out in the garden
Get you a ripe one, dont pick a hard un plant em in the spring, eat em in
The summer all winter without em is a culinary bummer I forget all about the
Sweatinand the digginevery time I go out and pick me a big un home grown
Tomatoes, home grown tomatoes what would life be like without home grown
Tomatoes only two things that money cant buy
Thats true love and home grown tomatoes you can go out to eat an thats for
Sure but theres nothina home grown tomatoe wont cure put em in a salad, put
em in a stew
You can make your own tomatoe juice
You can eat em with eggs, eat em with gravy you can eat em with beans, pinto
Or navy put em on the side, put em in the middle home grown tomatoes on a hot
Cake griddle home grown tomatoes, home grown tomatoes what would life be like
Without home grown tomatoes only two things that money cant buy
Thats true love and home grown tomatoes if is to change this life I lead
You could call me johnny tomatoe seed
cause I know what this country needs
Home grown tomatoes in every yard you see when I die dont bury me
In a box in a cold dark cemetery
Out in the garden would be much better
cause I could be pushin up a home grown tomatoe home grown tomatoes, home
Grown tomatoes what would life be like without home grown tomatoes only two
Things that money cant buy
Thats true love and home grown tomatoes
Words and music by guy clark
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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God Is The Light
God is the Light
How great the wonders of the heavens
And the timeless beauty of the night
How great then how great the Creator?
And its stars like priceless jewels
Far beyond the reach of kings
Bow down for the shepherd guiding him home.
But how many eyes are closed
To the wonder of this night?
Like pearls, hidden, deep beneath a dark
Stream of desires.
But like dreams vanish with the call to prayer
And the dawn extinguishes night here too are signs.
God is the Light - God is the Light
How great the beauty of the Earth and the creatures
Who dwell on her.
How great then how great the Creator?
As it's mountains pierce the clouds
High about the lives of men
Weeping rivers for thousands of years.
But how many hearts are closed
To the wonders of this sight?
Like birds on a cage, asleep with closed wings
But as work stops with the call to prayer
And the birds recite here too are signs
God is the Light God is the Light
How great the works of man and the things he makes
How great then how great the Creator?
Though he strives to reach the heavens
He can barely survive
The wars of the world he lives in.
Yet, how many times he's tried,
Himself to immortalise?
Like his parents before him in the Garden of Eden
But like the sun sets with the call to prayer
And surrenders to the night here too are signs
God is the Light Everlasting
God is the Light Everlasting
song performed by by Cat Stevens
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There And Back Again For Jt Ellison
The river flows unhurriedly
on its long journey to the sea
Sometimes flows fast and sometimes slow.
It does not matter really though
.
All rivers will eventually
become part of the great salt sea.
From whence they came as clouds and rain
to which they must return again
The sea and Sun co operate.
Evaporate, precipitate
Recycling water constantly.
All rivers flow into the sea.
Where they evaporate and rise
as water vapour to the skies.
The chill will change its state again
from water vapour into rain.
Which falls upon the earth below
to nourish all the plants that grow
Without the rain then there would be
no rivers flowing to the sea.
The world be a desert place
of growing plants no single trace.
A world of grey and brown and dun
Defeated by the burning sun.
Although the rain can be a curse
no rain at all would be much worse.
Accepting philosophically
the rain must fall and frequently.
Though sometimes inconveniently
Without the rain where would be
Extinct I think without a doubt
I much prefer the rain to drought.
Though it may rain on your parade
and spoil the plans which you have made.
You should be thankful for the rain,
you have small reason to complain.
Nature recycles constantly.
water the prime necessity.
If she did not then we would die
Beneath a blue and cloudless sky.
6-Dec-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Now That The Year Is Growing Kind Of Old (Envelope Couplet Sestets)
Now that the year is growing kind of old
when the true story of Jesus we are told,
we are living up to a day of giving
while daily we hear joyful birds singing
as when they did that child once behold,
now that the year is growing kind of old.
Now that the year is growing kind of old
our Christian faith we do at times uphold
while to others we bring some happiness
like messengers of God we try to bless,
sing happy songs on each friendly threshold,
now that the year is growing kind of old.
Now that the year is growing kind of old
while some live sheltered in a stronghold
in a world of chaos there is tranquillity,
when in God we find some serenity,
in our own lives we act cheerful and bold,
now that the year is growing kind of old.
Now that the year is growing kind of old
in our lives God’s blessings are manifold,
while merrily bells do jingle and chime,
we tell of loving that goes past all time,
we celebrate Christmas in each household,
now that the year is growing kind of old.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Sonnet: The Early Summer
The Summer has begun earlier, this year,
The Sun is scorching already in March;
A few who lived in plenty, live in fear,
Their clothes are stiffer with excess of starch.
Few trees who seemed as Evergreen, are dry,
God makes some stubbled plants to reappear;
A few who enjoyed life, now seem to cry;
Their end is imminent and surely near.
Few trunks that people cut so oft are green,
And growing fast, so luxuriant in ways;
And things are changing fast, so too the Dean,
More truths are coming out with passing days.
The righteous few will rule the place again;
Despite the heat, God gives showers of Rain.
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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At Springs
I am trying to get a job
at Springs
and wonder why people live here
away from Johannesburg
and Pretoria
and what fountains
spring out at this place
and all that I find
is rotten smells
rising from the Blesbok river
where sewerage is flowing in freely.
The town lies stretched out
up to Brakpan
and has two internet cafés
that I know about
and a computer shop
where the people
know less about computers than I
and my animals
may not come into the house
and I must explain why
they are barking at the gate.
One of my cats
Lurks in the a storm water drain
against the road
and I am tired and fed up
with lifting concrete blocks
with a crowbar
to free the Persian cat
on his cries for help.
The mines are stripped bare
and at places there are pans
with poison
that has accumulated there for years
and at times there are friendly neighbours
with whom I talk
and virtually every second day
the weather is overcast
with falling rain
and thunderbolts
hitting outside around my animals
but mother’s garden
is a real idyllic spot
with hollyhocks bursting out pink
over fallen trees
in a rock garden,
geraniums of all colours
growing very rampant,
flame lilies blooming orange,
morning glories coming up anywhere
and a much larger vegetable garden
than I could plant in Pretoria
and over the yard
the Creator spreads His hand
and there are new flowers
sprouting almost every day
and I am astonished
at how easy
things grow here
and how high
the plants are suddenly
and the yard is so big
that the animals
almost play in a field
and it’s actually past lovely
to stay for a time
with my mother
as she loves me very much.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It is Spring Time
It is Spring Time
It is spring time.
I can smell it in the air.
I can smell the flowers.
I can smell the grass.
I can touch the grass.
I can touch and taste the vegetable growing in the garden.
The weather is changing.
The weather is warming up.
The trees are blossoming.
The flowers are blossoming.
It is spring time.
Easter has passed.
Beltane has passed.
Spring and May is here.
This is the time to tend to your garden and planted some flowers.
Some people pray to God to protect their garden.
Some people pray to Mother Nature for protect.
I do both and I thank God for this planet.
It is Spring Time.
The animals and bugs come out to play.
The frogs jump around the pond.
The wildflower comes out.
The sky is clean and blue.
The sun is shining.
The horses are running free.
The sunflowers are growing.
When seasons the earth also changes it is a beautiful way.
Nature is every where.
It is spring time.
There is rain and storm.
The trees have leaves and it arms.
The trees are ancient.
An apple falls down from the trees.
This is what thinks spring time is for me.
Spring time is beautiful.
Spring time is when nature is beautiful.
It is spring time.
Spring time is here.
The rabbits come out, and hop round.
The bees are collection honey for us.
The tulips are blossoming.
The roses are blossoming, and looking so beautiful.
The lavender is purple and bright.
Spring time is a time to celebrate.
Spring time is a time to clean our environment.
It is spring time.
Spring time is a time when rain falls.
Spring time is the time when the seasons changes.
Spring time is when the plants grow.
Spring time is my favorite season.
Spring time is the time to be happy.
It is spring time.
poem by Crystal Chown
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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