The Gardens - In the Beginning

Sunday, July 20, 2014

Ms. Butterfinger Trippytoes - Mistress of the Gardens






I wish,
I wish,
I wish,

no rain would fall on my garden ground
until all the grass was mown down
and
weeds heaped in a dreadfully high mound 
and
every plant was pronounced fit and sound
and
.
.
.




Phooey!
Shuck-ems!
Pfft!
Kaput!
.
.
.

Silly me
.
.
.
by then all that could be seen
of my once-upon-a-time leafy green
would be a Sahara desert scene
cause I'm stuck on impossible dreams
a master of disaster in jeans
















WHAT!
.
.
.
well sell me down the river,
stab me in the back,
bite my dagnabbit hand
.
.
.
the thesaurus is bluntly unkind
to us mismanagers of our fingers
entering into that cute little search box
the
word
klutz
.
.
.
and
I
am 
a
moronic
imbecilic
nincompoopie
ignoramus
of
loser
whose
a
yokel
numskull 
hayseed
half-wit
simpleton
.
.
.
I'm going to pretend
I don't know how
this collection
of
concrete disaster
showed up
in
my
driveway




Kitty loves me
and
that's good enough.


Charlotte


Thomas


Casey




Austin
























Jamie











3 comments:

  1. You've created a kitty sanctuary out there and it is beautiful!! Concrete will rise again another day. No worries.

    ReplyDelete
  2. That's the wonderful thing about pets.

    ReplyDelete
  3. They love you no matter the foibles, real or imagined. I think your garden looks lovely and I especially like the paths and wrought iron fencing.

    ReplyDelete

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