Friday, September 25, 2020

Inspiration from Molly's Garden

Sometime this week, Molly Hogan posted a picture on Facebook of her carrots.  Go there to see her great image of homegrown carrots.

I wrote a Haiku for the carrots in the Comments...

Roots try to stretch but
Ridged rocks with stony laughs
Inhibit their reach.
by Donna JT Smith

...but one carrot had a split root, and Molly commented back about its "dancing pants"...

And so I could not leave that alone!  It was eating at me until I wrote this poem.  It wasn't what I'd kind of envisioned.  I was thinking a kind of Gingerbread Man scenario.  But you can't stop a Carrot Top.

Thanks for the inspiration Molly!

Carrot's Top

The day was cold,
the day was spring
and I had not
a better thing
to do today
but plant a ring
   A ring of things
   I call some carrots.

The soil was moist
The loam was brown
and there I pictured
carrot crowns
and so I threw
Some seeds around
   To fill the needs
   of me and rabbits.

Tiny green leaves
An emerald sprout
came up in days
In spite of drought
It would be special
There was no doubt
   It was no plant
   Of mundane habit.

The sun it shone
And then it waned
I waited there
Until it rained
The time to harvest
Was ordained
   I saw orange -
   The time to nab it.

I pulled and pulled
Very slowly
Up came the carrot
Soiled and lowly
I looked at it
It struck me drolly…
   I never knew
   I’d have to grab it!

Two chubby legs
In orange pants
This carrot wore
As if to prance
And that it did
Or was it dance?
   In any case
   Began the gamut

It did a jig
It made me laugh
It wasn’t tall
By less than half
And then I took
This photograph
   Before it jumped
   I quickly snapped it.

Down the path and
Up the hilltop
Past a red barn
To the Big Top
Where it came to
Rest at this stop
   To ask the way -
   A little gambit.

And that is how
And that is when
Carrot said “no”
To julienne
No matter how
The world would yen
   There would be corn
   But not this carrot.

Yes, carrot learned
The life of clowns
Has many ups
Not so the downs
They traveled far
To many towns
   Pulled up its roots
   As was its habit.

I miss carrot
I’m forlorn
The loss of orange
I still mourn
But I do enjoy
Some yellow corn
   And clover is
   Enough for rabbit.

By Donna JT Smith, 9/20/2020

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