 |
KEN NEGUS' POETIC TRIBUTEMy Wife and My Garden
She claims I do the workand she does the eating. Now that's an exaggeration: She cooks and cans our abundant crops, but more importantly, she tutors my thoughts and feelings about it all, opens my eyes to my real garden. She tells me, "Go play in your garden." Now, gardening's a serious business and for me it's hard work. I don't play in my garden! Then I think about all the fun I have, and tell her, in a humble moment, that she's right. Then there was the woodchuck. I came in one morning enraged that he had knocked down all the corn stalks and nibbled at every single ear. She laughed, said he was such a cute little guy, referred me to Thoreau. Again, she was right. Often she strolls through my garden, smiling, scanning the greenery, picking the goodies here and there, all in such a disorderly fashion. I never do that. I watch. Then I smile, too. To Joan's Memorial Page ART CREDITS: This background was created by
Image Addict.
|