Warning: The author has noted that this contains strong language.
PLANT MATTERS
We sigh...
we can barely photosynthesize
as she flits by
in accordance with her importance
yet, we shiver.
There's ne'er a "hi"
but stamens stand aquiver
in excitement.
Rigid, in
anticipated floral delightment...
Ah, but will she deliver?
There's dissent.
Come on woman, you've made us pant.
We're spent.
We're bloody parched!
Potential blooms
too doomed to bare scent
Roots sucked dry
yet stem spines arched...
towards that tap.
Our Lord. The Tap.
Transparent blood we crave to sap
from his connection
The forty foot
half-firm erection
The water snake, hissing
Mr. Plastic Fantastic,
yes Liquid Perfection
We'll take, we'll sup. We'll sip.
Lap it up.
Not missing his thorough pissing
and fill-fullment of our cup
with the currency of Life...
LATER...
Hmmm...I think we're in strife
Do you even suppose
she'll pick up the hose?
Does she know what we need? Indeed
we doubt it.
Quite evident
she doesn't seem to
give a shit about it...Us.
Hey Ho, what's the bloody fuss?
Will we get some H2O?
and she's gone...Oh!
So...?
No drink today?
We are SO gonna sink today, if
Miss IT girl has her way.
What crop? She never planned to stop,
She's useless.
We're not gonna cop a single bloody drop.
It's fruitless.
Bitch!
Leaving us in shitter's ditch...
Gonna be a dry, dry stay
but we
won't get ahead.
We'll be better off dead
while we wither away
As the time nods
into the wee small hours
and green luck sours
we'll be brave little sods
For no longer thirsty beggars
sprinkler slaves
Nay, nothing will save
the impending, arid graves
of dead flowers...
OURS!
How quickly she forgets
all those seeds she bought
that she'll care for,
forever more...
NOT!
Yes,
sans any regrets
Miss Black Thumb gets:
A legacy of naught.
Her Spring stash, a burial
of wasted cash
and a
garden bed of earth, worth what?
Diddly effin squat!
That's the list, get the gist?
Gone, are the risk takers
the new frontiers, the ground breakers
Gone, are those
rotting in earthen pots
Now, just rotten earth in pots
Seems the haves now equal the have nots
In Summery:
From whence
we're standing, to leaning
to sitting, we see
quite befittingly, this
floral editorial
will be
with lamenting sighs
so unwittingly our demise
and of course
one choking memorial...
(C)
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Author Notes
My plants, both potted and those in natural earth hate me.
What can I say other than DON'T give me a pot plant for the housewarming!
They listed this in the 'Self-Improvement' category for obvious reasons.
Hope this is creative enough plant matter for the judges.
Thanks for reading...
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