Armed with a dream and a shovel,
I dig into the forgiving for giving earth;
She moves delighted, makes room, asks,
“What is it you bring, sweet suspense you mask?”
I think I surprise her, naively show off
my raid on colour, boastful aquisitions.
Pink, lavender, blossoms giant red,
like sleeping beauty, shall rest in her arms, her bed.
In the hole, a raindrop blesses whole,
rocks, roots, mysteries live like a wet mole.
Out they go, make room, Bury kitchen shreds,
Plant in. Working worms and bugs, composting our dreads.
The earth nurtures a tryst with sun and magic,
from love, our airs, organic matter not tragic;
She Collages all to blooming fruition in the raining mist-
giving her best, pushing through every human twist.
There’s the secret: organic and natural,
Brings best Grit out of earth, plants, and us all.
A huge treasure! To nurture, loving ways unseen,
Children like flowers, spread joyous sunbeams!