Category Archives: Garden Stories

Hiding in the bushes,
nestled in the green.
Slowly turning back and forth,
you calmly watch the scene.

Rustling in the roses,
your head snaps to the side.
Cautiously you step, then pause,
your eyes kept open wide.

Sensing your dark presence,
the prey shivers in fright.
Stealthy, you close in and then–
CHOMP! You take a bite!

Teeny, tiny yellow dots
are moving on the plants.
Little pinprick holes in spots
like sticky, icky ants.

These pollen looking pests all
crowd and gather on the stem.
Around the leaves they all crawl
and munch and crunch on them.

What are these nasty vermin?
And from where did they come?
Milkweed aphids have moved in
and made us all feel glum.

How far will this army go
with their full-blown attack?
Stripping leaves to my great woe,
they eat their milkweed snack.

It’s quiet in the garden,
and yet I can’t explain.
All of my tomatoes seem
to stay a shade of green.

Some are jade with yellow stripes
and some with darker hues.
Some are trying hard to change
while others just refuse.

On the vine they linger,
a feast for all the bugs.
I gnash my teeth in anger
and watch the slimy slugs.

As one last hopeless effort,
I check back to the day
I planted these tomatoes.
What do the packets say?

When I looked at the pictures,
chagrined, I shook my head.
All were green and yellow striped,
not one of them was red!

The caterpillars climb up high
to make a chrysalis.
They slowly knit,
they never quit,
until they make it fit.

As butterflies begin to fly,
they flutter in the breeze.
They flit and flee
around each tree,
each flower, bud and me.

Yet sometimes plans will go astray,
and transformations fail.
Poor wrinkled things,
with dark wet strings,
and withered soggy wings.

But Mother Nature marches on.
The sun will rise again.
More butterflies
will soar and rise
and float up in the skies.

There are too many weeds in my garden, Mom.
I don’t know where to begin.

There are too many weeds in my garden, Mom.
Can we just start over again?

There are too many weeds in my garden, Mom.
I can’t tell a weed from a sprout.

There are too many weeds in my garden, Mom.
Please, can you help a kid out?

There are too many weeds in my garden, Son.
The dock has grown wild and untamed.

There are too many weeds in my garden, Son.
The thistles have made me ashamed.

There are too many weeds in my garden, Son.
If we work together we’ll win.

There are too many weeds in my garden, Son.
It’s too late to start over again!