ABPA - Australian Bush Poets Association

A tale of garden conflict


PELARGONIUM PANIC

The tremors would have measured four on the Richter Scale,
followed by a week at least, of torrid verbal gale.
Severe upheaval, chaos, a state of pandemonium,
aimed at me cos I’m the one who pruned the pelargonium.
The Mistress of the House, as you may guess, was sorely miffed,
it seems the pelargonium had been a birthday gift.

As I tried explaining, pruning’s not demise,
merely a reshaping, a trimming of its size,
promoting new growth with a firm short back and sides,
the groundwork for a bush that would surely sprout in strides.
Such reasoning was taken like the proverbial lead balloon
and I began to wish this plant would shoot again real soon.

Parts of my anatomy were threatened to become
a twin of the pelargonium, I’m giving you the drum,
and as I’m rather fond of these certain articles
t’was in my best interest to dodge them becoming particles.
Thus, a massive TLC scheme was started to embrace
and restore the pelargonium, its foliage to replace.

For a while I thought the TLC was all in vain,
perhaps the pelargonium would never rise again,
despite the use of fertiliser, compost and much mulch
the bush and all that I hold dear had reached a deep dry gulch.
The situation was quite dire, I stewed over my plight,
dreams of sharpened secateurs disturbed my sleep each night.

However, just when all felt lost, up shot a small green leaf
from the pelargonium’s base, much to my relief.
New growth had arrived, just as I’d predicted
no need at all for panic, why was I contradicted?
“Hmph, just a lucky fluke” was the Mistress’s remark
spoken in a tone that would scare a great white shark.

Now, some two months later, order’s been restored,
and on matters horticultural, there’s a spirit of accord.
The pelargonium's healthy and absolutely gushing,
in fact, I fear that soon, some other plants it will be crushing
but, should it need more pruning, do not look to me,
I’ve no wish for a gravestone marked “He started World War Three”.


Jeff Thorpe 15 December 2012 ©

Phew, what a relief Jeff. Glad there was a happy ending....

Heather

Not a lucky fluke at all Jeff they thrive on short back and side haircuts and what's more if you stick the chopped off bits into the ground you'll find most of them will take and you'll have even more pelargoniums at no extra cost. You'll be able to dazzle your missus with your green fingers as well as your great poems.

Maureen K Clifford wrote: if you stick the chopped off bits into the ground you'll find most of them will take

What's that Maureen, the bits of pelargonium or the bits his Missus cuts off him?

Goodonya Jeff . . . I doubt any poet's ever rhymed pandemonium with pelargonium before.

Cheers, Marty

Hi Heather, Maureen and Marty

Thanks for your comments. My wife reckons I never let the truth interfere with a good story. The poem's close to the truth anyway but suffice to say, I'll leave the shears off that particular pelargonium for a while.

Cheers, Jeff

I know EXACTLY what you are talking about Jeff.

Never one to be beaten Jeff you should have brought a new plant and replaced it, has worked for me before especially azealas.





Reminds me of the time I sprayed the patch of lawn with zero and not Kamba, that took two years to recover.



Bob

I think he's a bit mixed up Jeff - I think Bob means Azaleas! The rum will do that to you....

Heather that is very picky of you up here we call them Azealas anyway.


Robert.

G'day everyone

Neville, we pruners have a hard road to hoe don't you think.

Bob, Get some pelargoniums. After this episode I reckon you can't kill 'em with a stick

Cheers, Jeff