My Home


With my hands
I planted this wild ginger
Until it bloomed
All throughout the year

With my fingers
I cut the pink blossoms
Green leaves and more
Tended to my lovely garden

With my heart
I arranged a simple bouquet
For my kitchen table
Where we eat and play

So that my loved ones
Would enjoy a lovely scent
A thing of beauty
An afternoon well spent

At home.
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For Poets United : Thursday Think Tank

15 comments:

  1. I love the sacredness of this doing
    lovely words

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    Replies
    1. Oh yes, I didn't think of it as sacred. But now that you mentioned it, I do tend to my garden fervently.

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  2. It is quite obvious your heart overflows with love ..

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    Replies
    1. That's the nicest thing anyone has said about me from my poetry. Thank you Helen...

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  3. It's the simplest of things that shows the greatest love.

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    Replies
    1. It took me some decades to understand this, but yes, you are absolutely right. Thank you.

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  4. Oh so lovely, both poem and wild ginger.........such a beautiful and exotic plant. So much love in the tending, of plant and family, and in the poetry.......

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  5. Dear dear Sherry. Most people cook the wild ginger and my friends are flabbergasted that I use it as a flower arrangement. But they are lovely, aren't they?

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  6. What a lovely air of peace pervades your poem!

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    Replies
    1. Thank you ! It is a sanctuary after a tiring day...

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  7. Feelin all warm & cozy now, thanks for the read

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  8. mmm bet it was lovely and smelled good too...nice when you know you played a part in it as well....

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    Replies
    1. Yes Brian. Apart from the obvious pleasure, the gardening provides me my only (almost) regular exercise.

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