(or, How MacBeth Spent Her Afternoon)
I went to whack the weeds, I went
With weedwhacker in hand,
I planned to whack down all the weeds
Across my patch of land.
But when I saw the violets,
so green and lush and full,
I pulled the weeds around them out
But these I could not cull.
I docked the dock, took pokeweed down
and trimmed the side and drive.
I stopped and spied the work of mice,
And wasps (a paper hive!).
The mice had eaten cherry stones
And left them on the slate;
The wasps were eating clothespin wood--
My clothesline was their plate.
The dandelions lost their heads;
I let daylillies grow.
I also let a flower stay
(It's name I do not know).
I trimmed around the tree until
Tart sorrel's yellow bloom
Defeated me; I had to stop
And grab the dusty broom.
(Click on photos for a closer look. Copyright 2011.)
4 comments:
Perfect MacBeth! Loved it. I am the world's worst poet so I especially appreciate when someone can do it well. Can. Not. Do. That.
Heh, heh. I like it!
love the poetry, fun!
I SOOO know this story! :) ...except my yard is slightly larger :)
Post a Comment