Beds fully made
i don’t recall the context other than childhood, but nursery rhymes, fairy tales and fables were a typical mom time. So now i shall look for the silver bells and cockle shells as my own garden grows.
note…thursday no arugula sprouts…but by friday afternoon, they’ve all sprouted! dang. the growth taken place under the surface is so unseen and then in a moment it becomes wonderfully visible. god i hope it will be like that.
Mistress Kathy, hands well-blacked,
How does your garden grow?
With introspection and deep reflection
And planters on land never mowed
The nursery rhyme is (supposedly) about Mary Tudor, aka Bloody Mary.
now that puts a smile on my face!
the strangest things warm my heart in unexpected ways. your poem does that for me.