Digging out the words

I was frustrated over a news item about some racist comments which were being excused as innocent banter. Not sure why, or who but this poem resulted..


My garden is peeping out, unsure if it’s welcome yet,

Testing the atmosphere, checking on the timing.

Is there a warmth to our greetings, or a frost?

The plants, the ones we love, they are coy and shy.

The weeds are the gatecrashers to our horticultural party.

They are brazen, muscling past our forks and trowels,

Pushing the daffs and primroses to one side.

 White skin-budded thugs, shaven headed,

Lying in wait in the dark loam, muggers in alcoves.

When we pull back the leaves, they thrust past, creating mayhem.

They crave the best soil, the blackest tilth

As their play area.

What irony.

Black is good in the garden.

Pale chalk or sickly clay are the feeble, despised bases,

Lacking fibre, elements and nourishment.

They seek out the rich dark friable peaty earth,

The blackest , the brownest.

Like coal and oil, peat is fuel, a source of wealth, heat and power,

All contained in this ground.

We can’t do without this dark hued matter

Yet we still underplay its importance,

We still give it a negative connotation:

Dirt, grime, mud, muck.

Still we see the light, the pale, the white as somehow better.

The garden knows best, even the bleachy-headed weeds.

They know the yin and yang of gardening:

Nothing much grows without the sun and the light.

But nothing is nurtured, preserved and nourished without the soil and the black.

Why didn’t we see this all those years ago?

Why are we still blind?

About TanGental

My name is Geoff Le Pard. Once I was a lawyer; now I am a writer. I've published several books: a four book series following Harry Spittle as he grows from hapless student to hapless partner in a London law firm; four others in different genres; a book of poetry; four anthologies of short fiction; and a memoir of my mother. I have several more in the pipeline. I have been blogging regularly since 2014, on topic as diverse as: poetry based on famous poems; memories from my life; my garden; my dog; a whole variety of short fiction; my attempts at baking and food; travel and the consequent disasters; theatre, film and book reviews; and the occasional thought piece. Mostly it is whatever takes my fancy. I avoid politics, mostly, and religion, always. I don't mean to upset anyone but if I do, well, sorry and I suggest you go elsewhere. These are my thoughts and no one else is to blame. If you want to nab anything I post, please acknowledge where it came from.
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9 Responses to Digging out the words

  1. noelleg44 says:

    Very imaginative and heartfelt analogy, Geof.


  2. Charli Mills says:

    It takes the best we all have to give in order to grow a garden.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Very thought-provoking Geoffle! You’re so creative!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. davidprosser says:

    It touches right to the heart of the matter Geoff. Why do people refuse to become the best they can be??

    Liked by 1 person

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