My Garden
I guard my gardener
Who is me, and just me.
Opening a lawn is
To grow grass with seeds alone.
My thinking is safely
Being thought by the roots
And the plants seem to be
A lot of pleasure then.
Hosing is fine this time
As well as watering.
My garden skills are best
But is my gardening
Any good, or all bad?
poem by Naveed Akram
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Related quotes
Green Fingers
People have gardens, both large and small,
Whilst flat dwellers have no garden at all.
Some people love to surround their homes
With comical-looking, little garden gnomes.
A few gardens boast fantastic water-features,
Or a large array of stone, woodland creatures.
To make their garden nice, some folk really do try,
Whilst other gardens really are a sight for sore eyes.
Some folk really wish their garden was just not there,
And, about them, they, very obviously, just do not care.
Without a garden, some people would feel really lost,
And they keep them looking nice, whatever the cost.
Some people are blessed: they have green fingers,
And, in their gardens, for hours, they love to linger.
When some people pull on their gardening gloves,
They tend their gardens with such heartfelt love.
People love to spend their time sowing seeds,
Trimming their hedges, and pulling up weeds.
Some tend flower beds, upon bended knee.
Some grow delicious fruit upon their trees.
The gardener's nightmare is the garden pest:
To eradicate them all, they do their best.
Some people love to escape to their sheds,
Where they can think, and clear their heads.
In their gardens, people love to spend time,
But they like it best, when the weather is fine.
When all of their gardening chores are done,
Some people love to sit and relax in the sun.
Time spent in the garden, always really flies;
The benefits of gardening cannot be denied.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Be The Garden Not The Gardener
the thoughts growing in your mind
are thorns
you are the one growing them in your mind
let no thought grow there
let yourself be not the grower of these thoughts they are the thorns
let your mind be just the garden
let Him spread the seeds and let these seeds grow like
some clouds seeded in the skies
let Him grow the thoughts in you
you see them
they are the red roses
because you are the garden
you are not the gardener
you have never been and you are never the good one
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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The squeaky wheelbarrow
You can tell that spring is here
because of the gardeners all around
armed with their new forks and spades
digging away at the heavy ground.
The wheelbarrow that had the squeak
has been lobbed unwanted into the skip
along with the trusty old lawnmower
ready to be taken down to the tip.
The conifer trees are skyscraper tall
so high they block out the light
the hedge and lawn are overgrown
and there are insects in search of a bite.
And watch what your pulling out
before you put in those new seeds
because some weeds look like plants
and some plants resemble weeds.
You've read lots of gardening books
and watched hours of D.V.D'S
but nothing is ever mentioned
about backache and arthritic knees.
Still they say it's very therapeutic
relaxing and good for the soul
but not if your gardens been ravaged
by bloody Foxes, Badgers, and Mole!
poem by Kevin Halls
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Seek not the gardener in the flesh
Two maidens walk throughout the forest unknown
Darkened shadows gloom and each fights off
The demons of her insecurities, they stumble across
What seems like naught less than a garden, for all of
The flowers grow in rows creating the impression of design.
One of the maidens claimed that no gardener would come this
Far into the unknown just to create a garden of such wonders.
The other could not comprehend that such a beauty could of
Come across within a conscious will for it’s existence pure.
They each argued in turn and learnt
From each nothing more than the cementation
Of opinion in ignorance towards the other
Yet they agree to test in empirical measures
What force treasures this Garden of wonder.
So they waited and they waited so patiently,
For they had set up fences, and awaiting defenceless they saw nothing.
They heard nothing but the wind as it carried
Upon its song the seeds of springfull joy,
Still the flowers continued to bloom
But no gardener appeared in the form
The un believer was willing to accept.
She that sees the garden knows true the beauty of her surroundings
She knows that it does not need to be measured
For it is a treasure as it is a pleasure in itself,
Yet still her companion points to the weeds that grow,
She point to the dying trees burnt as embers glow.
She can not listen as her friend explains that each is a cycle within the
Medicine wheel, each weed is as worthy of our praise as are the flowers
That catch and dance in Apollo’s radiance.
As the seasons turn we learn
As we grow every second
We are making anew the mould,
Before the kiln of silence awaits.
Seek not the gardener in the flesh
But know that it is he who breathes fresh breathe anew
Into every living being
The gardener unseen is as real as the emotions within which we swim.
poem by David Lacey
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Parents (a poem to sing)
Owning lands
moist soil
farmers
vow to sow.
Spreading seeds
all over
for healthy plants
to grow.
Watering the saplings
fertilising
good
for the health of plants.
Pruning them
and then
amidst the Godly chants.
Buds blossom
into flowers
fragrance
spreading
to and fro.
Farmers happy
rejoice flowers
blessed by
HIS graceful show.
---x----
All rights reserved/Tribhawan Kaul
poem by Tribhawan Kaul
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The Garden
A plant has bloomed into a flower very well,
Seeds were sown yesterday, only the bluebell.
Using sunlight and hero-worship is best,
Regretting any extolling that was abreast.
The garden is a city for the diffidence
Expressed by this appearance.
We are a number of angiosperms
In full religion, just as a prophet confirms.
His hood is like the floret or small flower,
His job is to garden the city and keep the cauliflower.
He also has bashfulness, sheepish though he remains
From the ever-growing symbols, the ever-changing gains.
We must pay our tribute to the king of gardening,
A man who is a great gardener, and he is beckoning.
poem by Naveed Akram
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My Trees
The tree has branches so full of life’s teaching,
Anyone stays inside this house of wood.
My trees are in my garden of roses,
They are full of beauty, my garden tries hard
To learn and grow like humans and animals.
Your knowledge survives, my garden lives on
As it deserves to, my harder gardening is a concept.
Trees increase us in numbers, plants normally learn
Outright, their infinity is greater than ours.
poem by Naveed Akram
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It Was A Living Guard (Parody)
It was a living guard
I think, when reality
started. That walked off his piece of lawn
feeling affectionate,
laying down his head and wordless
against the tree,
became friends with it.
A first tree
from which he as a guard
paced off his way,
while it screamed next to him,
he pulled
and the stem was stripped off to the top,
until he saw:
the awakening of a young branch
that after the first pruning
carefree
started flowering.
But when the tree started to shake and offspring
started budding into the corner of the garden,
growing under the tablecloth,
to the woman, nobody in that summer
thought
to tell the guard
about the meaning. It was a living guard,
if I do not have it wrong,
that walked away from his piece of lawn.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Raise Your Head Fearlessly Above Shade!
Look at the Nature around,
whether trees and plants know or not,
Their roots surly know,
water that quench their thirst,
where they can find minerals for growth,
Are in this soil and in the Nature!
Animals live in nature's garden,
birds and butterfly,
Know where they can be happy!
O man, know for sure
tender plants with tender roots,
Need shade and care,
no tree can grow under shade of another tree,
Come out of shades and shadows,
Once roots become firm,
once you absorb essence wanted,
Raise your head fearlessly above shades,
Breath the fresh air Rain and sunshine,
feel the heat and cold to become free,
The potential is there in you,
Open the packet of reasoning and wisdom,
Never bury it,
What Almighty had embedded in your heart!
The fountain of infinite bliss is within you,
Never thereafter you feel thirsty,
More you can share the fruits,
With that sweet knowledge,
Whoever thirsty can sip it till his own roots grow,
You are done,
you have done!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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The seeds of the garden
I grew a garden with seeds brought from some. I alone know from where I got those seeds.
I do not know to which gardens have gone
The seeds of mine for growing plants of theirs.
13.10.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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I Grow Old
i grow old, i grow old
i shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled
and steal from TS Eliot
thinking no-one knows
i grow old, i grow old
i shall cease to do what i am told
and stay in bed till sunset
when the weather gets too cold
i grow old, i grow old
i shall only wear my crumpled clothes
and look disdainfully at others
when they roll up their nose
i grow old, i grow old
i shall watch events unfold
and take a greater pleasure
in an elder statesman role.
i grow old, i grow old
i shall never play lawn bowls
and never will watch cricket
that's too boring for the soul.
i grow old, i grow old
but i shall never be so bold
as to admonish others
when my views they do not hold.
poem by David Keig
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Gardening At Night
I see your money on the floor, I felt the pocket change.
Though all the feelings that broke through that door
Just didnt seem to be too real.
The yard is nothing but a fence, the sun just hurts my eyes.
Somewhere it must be time for penitence. gardening at night is never where.
Gardening at night. gardening at night. gardening at night.
The neighbors go to bed at ten.
Call the prayer line for a change.
The charge is changing every month.
They said it couldnt be arranged.
We ankled up the garbage sound, but they were busy in the rows.
We fell up, not to see the sun, gardening at night just didnt grow.
I see your money on the floor, I felt the pocket change.
Though all the feelings that broke through that door
Just didnt seem to be too real.
Gardening at night. gardening at night. gardening at night
Your sister said that youre too young.
They should know theyve been there twice.
The call was 2 and 51.
They said it couldnt be arranged.
I see your money on the floor, I felt the pocket change.
Though all the feelings that broke through that door
Just didnt seem to be too real.
We ankled up the garbage sound, but they were busy in the rows.
We fell up not to see the sun, gardening at night just didnt grow.
Gardening at night. gardening at night. gardening at night
song performed by by REM
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gardening At Night (Acoustic 2)
I see your money on the floor I felt the pocket change.
Though all the feelings that broke through that door
just didn't seem to be too real.
The yard is nothing but a fence the sun just hurts my eyes.
Somewhere it must be time for penitence. Gardening at night is never where.
Gardening at night. Gardening at night. Gardening at night.
The neighbors go to bed at ten.
Call the prayer line for a change.
The charge is changing every month.
They said it couldn't be arranged.
We ankled up the garbage sound, but they were busy in the rows.
We fell up, not to see the sun, gardening at night just didn't grow.
I see your money on the floor, I felt the pocket change.
Though all the feelings that broke through that door
just didn't seem to be too real.
Gardening at night. Gardening at night. Gardening at night
Your sister said that you're too young.
They should know they've been there twice.
The call was 2 and 51.
They said it couldn't be arranged.
I see your money on the floor, I felt the pocket change.
Though all the feelings that broke through that door
just didn't seem to be too real.
We ankled up the garbage sound, but they were busy in the rows.
We fell up not to see the sun, gardening at night just didn't grow.
Gardening at night. Gardening at night. Gardening at night
song performed by by REM
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Little Prince
Gave him a planet
All for his own
Everything is natural
So everything he owns
With the right train of thought
He gets anything he needs
Ground to stand on and
Plenty of seeds
As the Baobab grow
You cut them at the roots
When the volcanoes start to flow
clean the chimney shoots
everything is good
At the place called home
The stars dwindle
As the sun comes and goes
But its dark out here
Because he's there all alone
Give him a flower one to behold
This is where it begins A story will be told
The Baobabs grow cut them at the roots
A flower shows up early in her youth
Let her grow until her petals show
Smile back
And say hello
She loves you
Because you adore her
If she dies she knows you'll morn her
she knows this now she can enslave you
Give you purpose
Give you something to do
You can't have it all
Call the rest greed.
poem by ryan Cravatta
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The Lord's Harvest of Plenty
What a truly awesome thought indeed,
That throughout your day you live among seed.
Not the seeds that one would find in the ground,
These are not seen, but in the heart they are found.
These seeds are planted by the children of God,
As they simply follow the path The Savior has trod.
Your life as a Christian is not merely good deeds,
As your faithful witness could plant one of these seeds.
Or your life may be busy with a seed you don't know,
And your faithful witness is helping that little seed grow.
Planting and watering, as a Christian, is all we afford,
While all of the growth of that seed comes from the Lord.
After a little growth it is no longer a seed,
But a new vibrant Christian prepared for a deed.
The deed that has been prepared, I'm sure that you know,
Is to plant some new seed and to help water and help grow.
Once they have grown, they are cut with God's sickle of love,
And taken by The Lord to their Father's Home up above.
Whether the numbers are few or they are many,
You can be part of The Lord's Harvest of Plenty.
(Copyright © 08/2002)
A Seeds A Star/tree Medley
Were a people black as is your night
Born to spread ammas eternal light
Which since time began
Has been to bring truth to every man
Our ancestors have since long ago
Passed their wisdom down so we to know
For here lies the key
That will help unfold the mistery
A seeds a star
A seeds a stars a seed
A stars a seed
A stars a seeds a star
In myself I do contain
The elements of sun and rain
First a seed with roots that swell
I gradually burst through my shell
Pushing down into the ground
The root of me is homeward bound
A trunk, a leaf and there I am
A miracle of least by far
Tree - you are the longest living one we know
The largest of all plants and still you grow
Tree - within your branches theres such history
So much of what were searching for to know
Every fifty years we celebrate
Po tolo, our star, as it rotates
Though infinitely small
It is still the heaviest of them all
(background)
A seeds a star
A seeds a stars a seed
A stars a seed
A stars a seeds a star
A seeds a star
A seeds a stars a seed
A stars a seed
A stars a seeds a star
(background-simultaneous)
Ye lolo de ye
Lolo ye kesse de ye
Kesse ye lolo de ye
Lolo ye kesse de ye
Kesse ye lolo de ye
Lolo ye kesse de ye
Kesse ye lolo de ye
Lolo ye kesse de ye
And some believe antennas are their leaves
That spans beyond our galaxy
Theyve been, they are and probably will be
Who are the mediocrity
song performed by by Stevie Wonder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Garden of Soul
My soul’s garden must grow those plants
And trees and shrubs that yield good fruits;
Sin grows like weeds that stifle growth
Of virtues and more vices grow.
The grace of Almighty God comes
Down on soul’s garden as sun, rain,
As virtues grow in more numbers,
And sin-weeds turn a scarce member.
poem by John Celes
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Images At The Chestnut Tree
I went to the chestnut tree
stripped bare by winter, where my mother
was gardening with potted plants.
While watering them
there were many shadows
that the swinging branches made
which formed images
of ghostly spellbound things
in my imagining creeping near
and in this autumn of my years
the power of destiny
was playing on my greatest fears
as if making it clear
that my last summer was spent.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Give the children an opportunity to make garden. Let them grow what they will. It matters less that they grow good plants than that they try for themselves.
quote by Liberty Hyde Bailey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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