Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Matt 4d
I planted us in a garden of dreams
but only thistles grew.

I painted you in colors of longing,
but you saw only the blank canvas.

I built bridges from words,
laying planks of my fears and wishes
but your silence was a match,
burning them to ash
before I could cross

Still I sing —
a fool gardening in the shadows
This was one of my earliest poems.
Bacchus was the title
Conferred to those responsible for ¹"gardening."
Zagreus, lineage of Zeus but son to ²Hades, bore another title.
The "Zageuri" lead in the night.
There were no feasts of raw flesh, but many dances and celebrations while they tended to "The Great Fire."
Of the Zageuri, Zagreus lead.
The title, rendered in Latin, is like Noctus Rex.
You see, on islands, humans have the capacity for an incomparable amount of exertable control over that of their environment.
Those of the lineage Zeus & ³chosen sons of the "God" had, along with the Baccuhi, relocated or slayed the majority of the island's predators.
All those who would not be or could not be companions, like Lupus & Lybica.
The few remaining were nocturnal.
The relocation or slaying of them, any & all nocturnal predators,
Fell to those responsible for when Darkness dawned & Night reigned.
Those "descendants"  of Hades, lineage of Zeus.
And in that, "The Great Hunt," we found among the elusive,
As we had found among the obvious,
Many other intelligent animals.
Many welcomed companions.
Wherein was birthed the Zageuri title,
Noctus.

The Nocti, the owls.

Gardeners in their own right,
Yet still hunters.
1 - Scale, methods, resources expended, et cetera are closer to what we would call terraforming. Proto-terraforming.

2 - Hades being in charge of the "night shift," within this context. Nyx of his lineage. Hades of the lineage of Kronos, but son to Khaos.

3 - As in, they themselves proved they were worthy enough to make their own decisions. They are "children" because they have chosen. Chosen that specific order/family.
A G Osborne May 28
Aerate my mind,
Plant the bulbs of new thought,
As germination of your methods begin, roots take in other parts of my brain.
The soil of my mind, so rich with life, do not give me ericaceous ideas.
Know my temperament, know my methods, know what to pollinate.
Let me blossom on my own accord,
While you may be deciduous, let me be
Evergreen.
Bekah Halle Dec 2024
The scent of the garden,
Left its traces on my hands,
As I danced around pulling weeds
and disposing of them in bands.
Berry Blue Jun 2024
You plant thoughts as leaves gently wander,
Passions pulse through pathways, profound and precise,
In the purity of petals, where phronesis lies.

You, the paragon of patience, a perennial sage,
With palms that nurture petals, planting wisdom on each page.
Under the pergola of pondering, you prune with care.

From the garden of the mind, in a perpetual maze,
Paving pathways of purpose,
In the garden, pure thoughts are found

BB
Bekah Halle May 2024
Cool autumn day,
Sunny and fresh,
Brimming with possibility.
Seedlings bought,
To be planted and sought,
And plant pellets to feed
the garden, come what may.
Shades of orange peppers on the lawn
Leaves lay scattered, tired and strewn.
To rake or not,
Begs an opportunity.
Lawrence Hall Mar 2024
Lawrence Hall, HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com

                                  Gardening with Happy Bees

                                      …for so work the honey-bees,
                      Creatures that by a rule in nature teach
                       The act of order to a peopled kingdom

                                     -Henry V, I.ii.87-89

A bumblebee hovers in front of my face
No hostility; it’s simply greeting me
As I putter from *** to place to *** again
Messing contentedly with seedlings and soil

But honeybees race around me in formation
No hostility; they’re ignoring me
They speed from water to flower to hive and back –
After all, every flower needs a little love (wink)

Blessed spring hovers softly everywhere
As bee-sy bees sing their sweetest airs
ChinHooi Ng Jul 2023
When the moonlight
lowers
i see in the night
a tearful ghostly light
don't know where it came from
can't even get a whiff
but i know
the petunia is meditating
unperturbed
can't really read her heart
can't tell how strong
she actually is
though the frost and dew
have barged in
the angle of the fallen fence
is expanding
but this i know
when the morning comes
she'll be awake
she'll be something different
i know
it must be the sunrise
that is able to mulch and sprout
the most captivating smile.
A prophet once proffered a parable,
A wheatable teaching and tarable,
     Concerning the needs
     Of a sowers sown seeds
That require a soil that's arable.
Next page