THE CARROT

IMAGE CREDIT:  http://www.picsearch.com/index.cgi?start=321&size=1p&width=1225&q=Carrot

When she was nine, the teacher assigned

The children to write a poem

"Any subject will be perfectly fine.

Think about it on your way home."

Pondering about it all that night

She thought about some topics

What exactly should she write?

How about a poem about a carrot?

It sounded kind of silly

This is what came to mind

She could have written about a lilly

But THE CARROT will be fine.

She struggled to find the right words

And doesn’t remember how it went
They came at last,  'tho a bit absurd

But sees now what it represents

As an adult she meets a woman

Who tells her she should write
The woman with the spiritual plan

Has completely changed her life

What?  She’s never really written

But she picks up her pen to write

Her spirit stoked....like a purring kitten

THE CARROT is brought back to life

*********

THE CARROT

(rewritten by the adult in the story....the original child's poem is lost)

He planted a special carrot seed

In the moist rich earth

Amongst the parsley and trumpet weed

To grow until it's birth

Carefully nurturing it every day

He waters it with the sun and moon

In His garden the faeries play

Anticipating the harvest soon

The Angels uproot the carrot

At the most perfect time

Food for the stomach and food for thought

So wonderfully divine

© Sherry Irvine – January 27, 2011

Thanks to Sherry Braine for her support - www.circleoflightwellness.com

The Fog Horn

I remember as a little girl

no more than 8 or 9

travelling with my Nana

when summers were long

and days were full of time

We happened to be in Sydney

The place where I was born

I would wake up every morning

to the sound of the big Fog Horn

EEEEEEEEEE OOOOOOOOOOO

I wondered what this sound was

so I asked my Nana to explain

she told me it was a Fog Horn

to keep the ships at bay

EEEEEEEEEE OOOOOOOOOOO

She took my hand and off we went

on this foggy morn

Maybe we'd find the lighthouse

where the Fog Horn noise was born

EEEEEEEEEE OOOOOOOOOOO

The smell of the ocean was very strong

I could smell the salt and fish

it was still rather foggy

so I played on the rocks for a bit.

EEEEEEEEEE OOOOOOOOOOO

The sound of the Fog Horn was haunting

as I played upon the rocks

the memory of it warms me now

as I remember this childhood thought

EEEEEEEEEE OOOOOOOOOOO

Later in the  morning

the fog had cleared away

revealing itself to a

beautiful summer's day

A little girl and her Nana

would take the day to play

to find the special lighthouse

where a Fog Horn memory lays.