Wild Woman arrives at a hobble
to do serious battle with the Iris Bed.
"Oh, woe is I!" she mutters,
at the shocking sight.
The tangle of weeds is higher
than the fair Iris's head.
Errant fattened Dangerously Prickly
blackberry vines and assorted mayhem
proclaim Serious Neglect
has long overtaken the hidden blooms.
And, most frightening of all,
the Fair Iris is having the life
choked out of her
by the hideous, tightly twining Horrible Ivy,
whose death grip around Iris's throat
is so tight Iris can only utter
a faint, desperate "gleep, gleep",
which Wild Woman translates as
"Hurry! Hurry!"
Wild Woman hoves to: At great personal risk,
she steps bravely into the tangled thorny patch.
She clips, she mutters, she heaves.
A satisfying pile of debris forms a mountain
of limp, expired weeds
and thorny vanquished branches
behind her.
But! when she is done,
the Fair Iris stands proud and tall,
evidence of Persevering Midst Completely
Untenable Conditions.
She takes her first deep breaths.
She sways and preens.
She is Free At Last!
Liberation has likely never
felt so sweet.
And Wild Woman? Her back
fairly shrieking in protest,
smilingly hobbles away.
a poem from 2011, my friends, posted for Real Toads' Tuesday Platform.
Haha! And it is so here as well. I'm looking forward to having a different back experience in the spring.
ReplyDeleteThis is such a fun read :D Love your fervid spirit Wild Woman :D
ReplyDeleteLots of love,
Sanaa
I'm glad for Fair Iris, Sherry. She needs you. (Now will you come rescue her cousin who lives with us, Sister Blue?)
ReplyDeleteGood write, nice reading. I'm reminded of Super Woman.
..
A wild woman would be useful around here, too.
ReplyDeleteWonderful for the weeder and the weedee.
ReplyDeleteDelightful write Sherry, coincidence I guess enjoying cobbler made with fresh blackberries as I read. 😊
ReplyDeleteInterestingly enough weeds outgrow the beneficial plants and herbs even within the same flower beds. Most times thriving even without fertilizers.A relief if one gives time to weed them out. You've done it well here Sherry!
ReplyDeleteHank
Fair Iris can be quite resilient sometimes too, but still what we a joy and relief to set the blooming flowers free.
ReplyDeleteOh Sherry the poem truly gives me so much happiness and joy. Long live wild woman. She did rescue the princess from an utterly wicked monster ....
ReplyDeleteOh the agony of freeing a flower...love this. My garden needs work. I am in denial. lol
ReplyDeleteOh I love this, Sherry!! Perfect timing too, as the cold and dark surrounds. Thank you!
ReplyDeleteI started giggling and by the time I was through reading, I was laughing out loud. Scared the husband and dog at my feet. (the dog, not the husband).
ReplyDeleteYou too? LOL! I had to dig up a 60 year old hydrangea this late fall.....it was being strangled by all the rocks thrown around it, deep in the soil. It was once a beautiful purple, lavender and pink bush...big...and now? A stick that might or might not survive the winter. One can only hope. However, I was right there with you on the back issue. My aching back! Seems that age certainly curtails our pulling weeds activity. My iris just don't bloom....what do you do for yours?? In any case, your poem struck deep into my own life...which seems to be run by the rampant ivy, blackberry vines and non-blooming bulbs. Good poem!
Even Wild Women get the blues (or aching backs). I just, for the first time, got my own copy of Women Who Run with the Wolves. :-)
ReplyDeleteSherry to the rescue. Those flowers are grateful, though your back - not so much. Love the descriptive words here. Enjoyed it much.
ReplyDeleteThis summer I found my beautiful black iris being threatened by some awful bindweed that keeps coming back every year! Thanks for the reminder of a warmer days and the victory against things that choke our gardens. :D
ReplyDelete