Back in February, I posted about a day when I made a specific appointment to prune the raspberry bushes in my garden. I mentioned my reluctance to perform the task because I believed the productive plants might – given my notoriously purple thumb – take offense at being pruned and simply refuse to produce another crop! About two weeks ago, I took a hopeful gander at the raised-bed garden. I’m afraid it wasn’t good news.
While I can’t confirm that said canes have actually given up the ghost, I’m beginning to worry. While the usual complement of weeds have begun to flourish (and propagate without any assistance), if there are new canes sprouting, I have not spied them. I will go out tomorrow and confirm. Granted, the temperatures may be fooling them into thinking it’s still late winter!
I think I would have an entire acre of raspberries on our property … if I were more adept at gardening. As it is, my most reliable method for enjoying them depends on regular trips to the grocery store … and let me tell you, when their supply has vanished before I arrive, I’m prone to leave the store empty-handed even if I have a list of fifteen other items I should be bringing home!
Yes, the picture above shows my morning meal in all its beauty and goodness. And yes, if you take a close look, I confirm it’s true … I do cut those delectable little berries into quarters – all the more to enjoy their superb taste in every bite! (Yes, a third time, I am uncontrollably crazy but what of it?!)
Today’s poem is a bird’s-eye view into my world. (Some readers might find it a refreshing contrast from my regular rants!) This is another sonnet in the Englark form I first posted about earlier this month. While not strictly an “ode” (in the sense of a poem intended to be sung), it can be characterized as a poem of devotion to a seemingly insignificant object that regularly brightens my morning!
