Triage Garden Tasks - Plants to Save Come First!
Saturday, April 18, 2009 Filed in: Poetry
Garden Task Triage
The list of jobs is ever growing
from one thing to another I've been tossed
If there were a master gardener here
Tasks would be wisely bossed.
Perhaps the last freeze is past,
though not the final frost
Any plant outside now
might become a harvest lost.
Seedlings beneath the lights
Plants too big for seedling tray,
Some can live there for a while
Others suffer from delay.
I turn my head and plainly see
Too many jobs to do
Even when planted outside
The work is never through.
There is a need to choose a path
A time to make decision
Decide the fate of each dear plant
A choice, I pray, by highest vision.
As I make my "Sophie's Choice"*
between this life and that
I hear the term in Hot Lip's* voice
as if I wear a doctor's hat.
A term I learned decades ago
from Hawkeye* and the crew
Triage - to choose who lives or dies
by how well the cure might do.
The plant that cries the loudest
Finest flavor on my tongue,
The plant most rare and precious
I choose to help that one.
Evening comes, the sky is darkening
I'm still outside with my hoe
working the soil to welcome
All the beautiful plants I know.
I'll take you each in turn
Before it is too late
Triage is only a place in line
To grow in love for all, is fate.
by Rachel Claire
The list of jobs is ever growing
from one thing to another I've been tossed
If there were a master gardener here
Tasks would be wisely bossed.
Perhaps the last freeze is past,
though not the final frost
Any plant outside now
might become a harvest lost.
Seedlings beneath the lights
Plants too big for seedling tray,
Some can live there for a while
Others suffer from delay.
I turn my head and plainly see
Too many jobs to do
Even when planted outside
The work is never through.
There is a need to choose a path
A time to make decision
Decide the fate of each dear plant
A choice, I pray, by highest vision.
As I make my "Sophie's Choice"*
between this life and that
I hear the term in Hot Lip's* voice
as if I wear a doctor's hat.
A term I learned decades ago
from Hawkeye* and the crew
Triage - to choose who lives or dies
by how well the cure might do.
The plant that cries the loudest
Finest flavor on my tongue,
The plant most rare and precious
I choose to help that one.
Evening comes, the sky is darkening
I'm still outside with my hoe
working the soil to welcome
All the beautiful plants I know.
I'll take you each in turn
Before it is too late
Triage is only a place in line
To grow in love for all, is fate.
by Rachel Claire
* respectful credit to whomever owns the intellectual property mentioned
Dear Readers,
This blog has been having some technical issues between an upgrade of the blogging software (RapidWeaver 4.2.2) and a new feedburner link and trying to function with Blotanical.
Hopefully this link will feed both into feedburner, blotanical and have comments available through JS-Kit.
If not, I'll try again. If you were able to see this post, please let me know below on the comments.
May all your decisions bring Peace and Joy for all!
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