Weeding the Herb Garden

Fragrance of sage and savory,

tartness of lemon balm on my tongue,

the busy buzz of honeybees seeking water

from the dripping faucet

and nectar from the blooming basil;

soft southernwood tickles my hand

as I work, pulling sourweed and redtop,

crabgrass and purslane

from between the hesitant  new parsley seedlings (both curled and flat).

Green, green, in its many variations on the theme

subdues my worries; I am adrift

in a sensory ocean of herbs.


About grannysu

storyteller, writer, poet, gardener, countrywoman
This entry was posted in A River of Stones, aros, Garden. Bookmark the permalink.

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