Jun 24, 2007

Poetry Friday Challenge: Crush

Okay, so the Poetry Friday Challenge has been sulking in it's dressing room, refusing to show it's lyric face until now.

Poetry Friday Late Sunday Evening Challenge

Crush

I thought I was a little
too old, too serious
for a crush. Thought that was
a fancy reserved for the young.
Seems I was wrong.

I have a crush you see, a serious
derangement of my status quo.
Driving desire to be with her in my heart.
I have a crush
on my garden.

My beautiful garden,
my love in her green and brown gown,
Lying there in the back yard,
her arms open wide to the sun, her yearning
to grow sounds like a sigh in the wind.

Her locks tumble and lie, all shades
of glorious green across her tan curves.
Succulent pleasures wait to be harvested from
her body, always open to my gentle touch
sun-warmed and ready, always giving.

She doesn't mind when I tumble her
with the rake, or run the tiller
puffing on a cigar, the pale smoke
pluming around my head,
her steam-powered cyborg.

Standing around an open grave, wrapped in
raven garb, in somber tones they always say
"Dust you are, and to dust you will return."
That fate doesn't seem so bad to me anymore;
An eternity, spent lying with my love.



*Thanks to Nancy Dancehall ("My Life in Fragments") for not slaying me outright (yet) for stealing her beautiful girl-as-earth metaphor.

6 comments:

Mona Buonanotte said...

Suddenly I feel like planting some cabbage, or daffodils....

What a sexy post, man!

meno said...

See? You are never too old for a crush.

This makes me want to go out and roll in the garden.

Jean said...

um... makes me want to BE a garden!

Jeremiah said...

Hey, easy with that rake!

Nice poem. I can constantly be caught "checking out" my garden myself. Heh, heh!

Irrelephant said...

Thank you, Mona! Very high praise indeed coming from a lady of your caliber.

Meno, you can come roll in mine if you can find space between the squash, canteloupes and cucuzza. I've got more winding, grapsing vines than Day Of The Triffids out there.

Jean, in every woman there is a garden; the smart man knows how to gently tend and nurture it to bring it to full flower.

Jeremiah, I used to use a hoe but I felt so dirty afterwards, and it got to be so expensive...

Maggie said...

Oh this is beautiful. And I love my garden as much as you love yours I think.

The idea that death is not so scary if you get to be with your garden - I love that.