Do I need a new "Do",
No not the snip and colour kind.
Perhaps I need another "Do",
One of jam and cream and scones,
Throw in a little music and a visitor or three,
The garden has gone all natural, its truly run amok.
The gardener has been slack and lazy and doing other stuff.
She needs to be reminded there is stuff to do outdoors,
The thought of a "Do" a happening somewhere down the track.
Just might get her off her backside. Get her back outside.
And tackling all that stuff.
It has come around again.
The Town Show is here again.
The kids will be busy, Making floral saucers.
The patterns going round and round.
The big people, will be checking out their gardens,
To find the very best, the competion can get very fierce.
Everyone is vying for that trophy.
The very "Best in Show",
The biggest, longest carrots, the roundest reddest beets.
The best looking rose, the best bunch of this and that.
And on and on it goes.
But if we do not enter and want to really win,..
You know, we wouldn't have a Show.
It's here, it"s on the sky is quite a buzz.
That little band of voluntees have done a bonza job.
Lots to see if you look above and lots to see below.
Problem here, but small I know.
But needs some thought and much consideration.
I have my laundry to hang out, while they fly up there above.
Now I am in a little dither.
Do I hang my not so small, "smalls" out there.
For all to view and see. Will they think they are and SOS flag.
Flapping in the breeze.
Yes, Air Show time again, the town will be abuzz.
They will be flying in from near and far and passing just above.
I wonder what my garden looks like, from way up there above.
Can they see the weeds I've missed and all the chores not done.
Or do they see it looking nice and neat, nothing left undone.
I could book a flight I suppose, and check it out myself.
Or perhaps I'll get my broomstick out and fly up in the air.
I could get a birds eye view.
If I hover just above.
Am I odd, Yes, I hear some of you, I know doesn't matter.
Have been known to have a chat with a good looking tree or two.
Well, Why wouldn't you.
Have been known to apologise while pruning.
For your own good, better for your health and wellbeing.
Yep, those plants understood.
Yes. well you know I give verbal praise to all bees and butterflies.
As you should.
Today as I stepped back onto a patch of nettles.
I muttered Oh Whoops, I am sorry, as they bit me on the butt.
I was taught to be polite, as we all should be.
Or am I just plain Odd.
The knee high boots have long gone.
The mini skirt layed to rest.
Laps past the Town Hall Dance, to check out the talent.
Back past the coffee drinkers, down past the pub.
All so long ago, all part of the past.
But, no this old girl is still cutting laps.
Down past the Lemon scented gum, up round the Hakea.
Lap after lap she can cut, round and round she can go.
The mowing here goes on forever, and ever
But so do those memories of long ago.
Yes, this tonic is working its magic right now.
Playing Xavier Rudd in the garden, Yes it understands his lyrics.
Peace, harmony, unity of the planet.
Yep, went along to watch and listen, dread-locks swinging in time.
No, not my graying locks, others bopping everywhere.
Was I the oldest there, well I thought not.
I spied another with looks of fading youth, I wasn't alone.
Whoops, he was an Usher, I didn't really care.
Waved my hands, I stomped along with everyone.
Calling play, Spirit Bird or Follow the Sun.
I didn't care which one. A Man with vision.
Please listen to his wisdom, help our beautiful planet.
While we still have one.
The garden has gone all natural, its truly run amok.
