Growing A Zinnia

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I did nothing but comfort my plants, till now their small green cheeks are covered with smiles. ~Emily Dickinson, American poet

I confess you were an afterthought,
A spur-of-the-moment something I bought.
I found you nestled in a dahlia patch,
Your color stood out from the rest of the batch.

I asked the clerk which one she’d choose.
With no hesitation, she pointed to you.
“I think you’ll be pleased” is what she said,
So I put you in my cart without any dread.

I planted you where you’d get sun and shade;
Watered you, guarded you, and often prayed
That you’d be happy living here with me
And wouldn’t long for what wouldn’t be.

Just look at you now, healthy and lush!
Your colors are radiant, making me blush.
For my part in helping you thrive and grow,
I couldn’t be happier; my heart is aglow.

Note: Poetry form is rhyming couplets.

Instrument Repair

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Music is forever; music should grow and mature with you, following you right on up until you die. ~ Paul Simon, American singer-songwriter, guitarist (originally teamed up with Art Garfunkel)

Once again, I’m between bands.

Summer band has concluded its season, and symphonic band (the one that follows the university class schedule) has yet to begin.

While part of me misses the camaraderie of these two musical groups, another part relishes a much-needed break.

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Walking With Joy

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What a significance wild flowers have, more than the tamed productions of the garden! They seem Heaven’s own messengers sent straight to man to bear glad tidings of universal and undying love. ~Henry James Slack, English journalist, activist, and science writer

A

Fence line

Adorned by

Dancing flowers —

Pink, yellow, and blue —

Can’t help but make me smile

As I take my daily walk.

So much color! So much beauty!

I wonder if the homeowner knew

His patch of posies would bring so much joy?

Note: Poetry form is Etheree.

Some Vacation … Huh

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Ah! there is nothing like staying at home, for real comfort. ~Jane Austen, English novelist

I Monkey here.

Since Mama’s tied up with “work,” I’m commandeering her computer to let you know what’s going on in my world.

Because after all, that’s what you really want to read about, isn’t it? Me, I mean?

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Blogging Break Time

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The more side roads you stop to explore, the less likely that life will pass you by. ~Robert Brault, American writer

It’s time for a break

Things to do, people to see

I will return soon

Note: Poetry form is Haiku. I’ll be hunkering low with the Monk as Scary Boom-Boom Day (July Fourth) approaches. My daylilies are finally blooming — and aren’t they cheerful? Everybody have a safe and happy Fourth — see you soon!

RIP, My Tiny Friend

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All stories end in death, and he is no true storyteller who would keep that from you. ~Ernest Hemingway, American journalist, novelist, and short story writer

You

Were so

Tiny that

I didn’t think

You’d ever get big.

Yet a Pandemic tree

Had nothing to do but grow.

And over these past five years you

Did exactly that! Each year saw you

Get taller and fuller and healthier.

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While I hated to do it, I had to

Have you cut down so others could live.

Sacrifice is never easy

And I thank you, Tiny Tree,

For your superb service.

I’ll miss you, you know,

But you’ll live on

In photos

And my

Heart

Note: Poetry form is Double Etheree.

International Sheltie Day

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Today is a most unusual day, because we have never lived it before; we will never live it again; it is the only day we have. ~William Arthur Ward, American motivational writer

There once was a day so grand
It was honored all over the land.
With a Sheltie or two
You’ll never be blue
And love you’ll always command.

Note: Poetry form is Limerick (which I haven’t written in ages!). Today, June 1, is International Sheltie Day. The Monk insisted we recognize the occasion this year — he’s demanding good treats and extra belly scratches.

Cleaning Paws … Still

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I am an immaculate housekeeper. I’m clean, but the house is a mess. ~Phyllis Diller, American stand-up comedian, actress, author, and more.

I Monkey here.

Mama seems to think this blog is hers, but I’m here to remind you — it’s all about me. Or at least it should be.

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Ladybug (Ladybird)

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Let your imagination… fly like the lady-bird, “north, south, and east, and west,” but take care that it always comes home to rest. ~Robert Southey (1774–1843), English poet

Once there was a ladybug
A-sittin’ on a tree
Chomping on her dinner
Never minding me.

Ladybugs eat insects
And are considered “good”
So I let her feast unbothered
As she likely hoped I would.

But why are males and females
Called “lady”bugs, I croak?
They’re named for Our Lady, Mary,
In art, wearing a red cloak.

Note: This is some sort of rhyming verse, as best as I can tell. I’m open to learning more, if anybody wants to educate me!

Mother’s Day 2025

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Mother, have you ever thought, dear,
That some day our lives must part,
And the fated one must linger—
Linger here with broken heart?
~W. Dayton Wegefarth (1885–1973), American writer

When my neighbor moved in next door, she transplanted some luscious phlox to the fence line in our backyards.

But apparently, phlox doesn’t recognize a barrier, and it’s spread onto my side of the fence. Not that I’m complaining!

I think it’s delightful how this plant is sharing its beauty with both of us.

In fact, I like to think of it as my late mom’s doing. She tried, but never could get phlox to grow when she was on earth; now that she’s in Heaven, I’ll just bet she’s smiling!

Note: Happy Mother’s Day, everyone!