With sack and rake
I harvest gold;
tree-leavings:
bird cherry, damson, lime;
cached to rot.
It’s a slow alchemy –
six seasons it takes me
to process gold to dirt,
giving me the earth.
copyright 2016 Tish Farrell
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For more leaf magic visit Verena at Festival of Leaves
Poetry and Photographs
From the Existential to the Mundane - From Poetry to Prose
Appreciating Everyday Life
not noble, just Dutch
theatre of stories untold
Travels Around The Land Of My Fathers
My plant obsession
A Little Bit of Texas in Swansea Wales
Childhood stories and wildlife encounters
Better than burning leaves which is currently choking Delhi with smog.
That truly is awful, Ian. The whole world needs to get composting not burning 🙂
fabulous golden leaves and alchemical ode! we reap what we sow and invest what we gather – a well-deserving finale to your patience and effort plus that of the earthworms and moulds 😉
Thank you, Laura.
Am definitely back into obsessive compulsive composting mode 🙂
OdeCD
Lovely words, Tish. Such a soothing rhythm – just a perfect fit for the season. It all goes back to the earth – love that thought 🙂
Thank you, Lynn. Words conceived while raking!
Inspirational gardening 🙂
Lovely.
And it is a similar story in certain suburbs over here re Ian’s comment.
Such a shame to burn dead vegetation, though it can be useful in very specific situations to encourage regrowth on moorlands etc. I was rootling through some of last year’s leaf mould caches yesterday. It’s not quite ready yet, but where the leaves had rotted down, it had made the most fantastic dark, crumbly soil. Ideal low nutrient stuff for seed-sowing in the spring 🙂
Beautiful, Tish.
janet
Thank you, Janet. I was thinking it up yesterday up at the allotment, and your post this morning chimed with it – and so I finished it off. That’s another good thing to be grateful for with blog-chums – notions rub off, and set off trains of thought…
I so agree!
Great poem. Never thought of leaves like that before. Nicely done.
Ah-ha! Leaf power – they’re not just things to skid around in on wet winter days. Thanks for the kind comments GC.
Lovely; I’ve never read a poem about compost before, but you have captured the magic wonderfully.
Ah, lovely leaf compost – eventually. And what a beautiful poem and picture!
Really wonderful. Been wondering how decay can be considered just as welcome as growth.
Hello Robyn. Lovely to hear from you. Thank you for the kind words. I am a bit compost fixated 🙂
I love the neatness of this and the paradox of gold to dirt. You say so much in so few words, and it’s a powerful plot line. None of those Shakespearean contortions! It ends with a nice whateveryoucallit – the double meaning of “the earth”.
You are so lovely, Meg. You ‘got it’ all 🙂
This is perfect in every way.
Thank you, Gilly
to framed and hung by all the compost piles 😉
I like this notion. A pep talk to compost: down and dirty, and quick as you like 🙂
🙂
Oh, Tish. Your rake gives you cause to wax poetic. Mine encourages me to curse the trees that line the opposite side of the street, still retaining leaves in numbers that would give Genghis Khan pause. 😀
I’ve had that feeling too, John, especially when neighbouring ash trees deposit all over the garden at home. But now I have a use for them – can see what they become with a bit of coralling, it’s ‘Bring on the leaves!’
Nice and palpable close-up!
Thank you!
Reblogged this on Festival of Leaves.
Thanks very much, Verena.
Also an Ode to the every gardener, so beautiful! And a lovely picture! Thanks so much for sharing them and taking part in the Festival of Leaves 🙂
Glad it hits the spot 🙂