World Sublime

by Michele Fry © 1978

(On returning home from a quiet week in a primitive cabin at Sequoia National Park, to the shocking hustle, bustle and self-centeredness of city people . . . . . )

"Here I am", yelled the boy
as through the woods went he.

    Scent of pine, World sublime.
     Standing quietly.

"Hey, it's me.  Can't you see?"
he stomped along the path.

     A trickling brook.  A rippling breeze.
     A shady canopy.

Spat the water. Pluck the flower.
Snap the bower. "Whee!"

     Squirrels scamping.  Birds chirping.
     Doe behind a tree.

Eerie feeling. "No one's here!
No one's here but me."

     Cooling shower. Timid flower.
     Nestling chickadee.

"It's hot.  I'm bored!"
A'home away went he.

     Scent of pine. World sublime.
     Sighing sweet relief.

Weeds

© by Michele T. Fry, © 2000

 

A weed can be a beautiful thing.

It flourishes where nothing else survives.

You mow it down.  It comes right back.

It's miniature flowers often have
more color, symmetry, and charm
than our most popular garden varieties --
(which, after all, were all hybridized from weeds)!

Pick a pretty specimen from field, ditch, or yard,
and display it up close in any scruffy little vase
chosen especially to compliment
the sprightly daintiness of weeds.

Watch a child's eyes light up when you
place a pot of weeds on a low window sill
or bedside table.
Marvel at the perfection of nature!
(Dried weeds look as good as fresh ones.)

These often overlooked gifts from God
are FREE for the taking,

year-round, throughout the land.
So celebrate the abundance of life!
Enjoy the roadside weed!