I’d Like To Cut Down Summer Ferns

     Yesterday was, in Sweden, the day after Midsummer. A day when one is tired from having, almost certainly celebrated the summer solstice with partying and too much food and drink. We were no exception. We held our yearly neighbor pot luck in our beautifully decorated boathouse, its lawn all mowed, prepared for games, the accordion well tuned and lovingly played.
     In my next day fatigue, I sat in the sun, body exhausted but ideas flowingly showing, I wrote poetry from the sublime to the ridiculous: four in all. No mean feat. I’ll start with the ridiculous.
 
     I’d Like To Cut Down Summer Ferns✍️
 
I’d like to cut down summer ferns
Expanding in our garden.
Green ferns primeval,
Which ferns rival
All the flower beds surrounding.
Beautiful indeed, all feathery and willowy,
Silly me, I shouldn’t mind at all,
But they are growing taller by the hour.
They survived the dinosaur.
We don’t stand a chance, for that, my friends is power!
 
Hubby won’t allow it,
So I sit and wait,
The date of their demise in months,
While size
Increases up and sideways,
Sowing seeds for future summers.
 
Showing up in May, it’s June,
And they’re not going anywhere down under soon.
They’ve reached the rhododendron tree in height.
What I would do to earn the right
To cut the [gorgeous] ferns right down
To root and ground
And plant a plum tree there or near –
Something edible and useful,
Beddable, a flower bed and beautiful.
 
Oh well, and Sigh! And me oh my!
I guess I’ll learn
To love that fern
When it’s two stories high,
Shading out the blue of sky,
Or,
Cloning a new-fangled dinosaur.
 
I’d Like To Cut Down Summer Ferns 6.23.2018 Circling Round Nature II; A Sense of The Ridiculous II; Arlene Nover Corwin

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