Verlie Burroughs is a west coast writer from Vancouver Island.
He was all
puffed up from
he had a
if you can
a black towel
made of feathers
Bedraggled by rain
scuffed by crows, the bald eagle
eyes an old house cat.
Counting tomatoes, and early potatoes.
Snap peas, beet greens, and fuzzy broad beans.
Flowers and fruit, nestled in bowers,
Zucchini blossoms, yellow bouffant pillows.
Tiny cucumbers pickles on the vine.
Red currant jelly in the jars!
Hydrangea, mad, blue bombastic.
Shasta daisy tall and shady.
Astilbe pink, fog of baby's breath.
Clematis pouring purple overhead.
Roses pouting scented smiles,
sweet pea and lavender, airy wiles.
White snapdragon, cosmos, petunia.
Sunny yellow marguerite, Dahlia buttoned bright.
Climbing roses threaded through honeysuckle...
Purple clover dusted in bees.
Deer nibbled scarlet runner beans!
Leaf lettuce, parsley, cress.
Ribbons of self-heal, heliotrope in baskets,
double impatiens, grand geraniums, lofting lobelia.
Along roadsides too,
pearly everlasting, fireweed, and pussy-toes!
When We Were Young We Had No Time To Care
When we were young we had no time to care
We didn't know we couldn't turn back the clock
Now youth is gone, we wish we would have dare
'Cause with every step we lose a little ground.
If I could do it all again I would
Love my parents better for what they gave
I would fight instead of run from those who stood
For backwoods redneck reckoning in my way.
I'd be a better judge for what is wrong
I'd never let a day pass without love
I'd memorize the words to every song
An' push harder when push came to shove.
I'd kiss the ground where love first blessed me
And carve our initials in the Willow tree.
© 2018 Verlie Burroughs