Veg Plotting

A poem by moi, for once; I must show it to my Creative Writing group. This is what happens when you're trying desperately not to quote that poem for Muse Day 😉

@readersdigestUK @Malvernmeet 3 Places To Find Salad: 1. Eatery. 2. Kitchen. 3. Garden. === To set tone- Homegrown. pic.twitter.com/evyG1yxAT6 — MaryElizabeth Rumsey (@MEinRhyme) April 15, 2015 On Wednesday morning I was delighted to find I've been gifted my first ever poem. Even better it's a) about one of my blogging obsessions - growing salad leaves , and b) April is  National Poetry Month . I tend to gnash my teeth a bit when the online marketing 'experts' go on about the Return on Investment (ROI) for social media. For me, this kind of random connection and a gift from a stranger is all the ROI I need. I must admit I was a bit suspicious at first and responded with my own brand of Bad Poetry . @Malvernmeet Thanks for the FAV...Just a plain old poet. :) — MaryElizabeth Rumsey (@MEinRhyme) April 15, 2015 A delightful conversation ensued... @Malvernmeet I write my 3's all the time, & I'm always looking for topics. I came across ...

You're simply the best, Better than all the rest, Better than anyone, Anyone I've ever met! I'm stuck on your heart, I hang on every word you say Tear us apart, baby I would rather be dead OK, I've chosen lyrics rather than a conventional poem for National Poetry Day , but they're relevant for the heroes and heroines story I'm going to tell you about. I'm showing you a picture from the Special Olympics opening ceremony in Dublin in 2003 and that's world hero Nelson Mandela, in the white top, officially opening the proceedings just after being led onto the stage by Bono from U2. Imagine how I felt to be there experiencing that for real! I was one of 30,000 volunteers helping 7,000 athletes with special needs from around the world to realise their full potential and focus on the things they could do for once. The Irish nation took every one of them to their hearts and I had the privilege of looking after Bahrain's ladies basketball team. It was 10 d...

December's Magnetic Poetry, 2004 After last month's angst , December saw me return to something like my usual optimistic self, but with the least words left on the Magnetic Poetry calendar to express it in some way never mind in a poetic form. However, as some of you know already , all the words in the world probably wouldn't have improved matters that much. I'd still be a bad poet ;) So ends my journey round my magnetic poems from 2004, which are on public view in our downstairs loo. It also means less bad poetry will be found in this blog from now on. Perhaps that's a welcome gift for a certain hatted one ? And if you really do want to see the rest of these poems, plus a few others slotted in for good measure, then my Bad Poetry label presents you with the entire anthology. Alternatively if you'd like something in much better taste, then the poems I've highlighted in contribution to Garden Bloggers' Muse Day can be found here .

Ever since I started my Magnetic Poetry strand back in January (the majority of posts on my Bad Poetry label), I've been debating fiercely with myself whether I would actually post today's entry. For the vast majority of my life I've been a most optimistic and happy soul and that's what usually gets portrayed here too. However, it wasn't that way on the 2nd November 2003. The signs were already there in my poems for September and October , but on that fateful day, I got absolutely no sleep at all - none for the rest of the week in fact. I was so full of adrenaline from stress at work, it was like I was completely wired open. I was shaking, my heart went haywire, it felt like I had fur being stroked on top of my head. It also felt like I was communicating with everyone from the other side of a misted glass partition. Naturally I couldn't have gone to work like that, so I called in sick. In time I recovered, slowly. But I never worked full time ever again. I...

In view of this auspicious day , I couldn't resist another post - especially as our two have been particularly endearing this morning. JAS has warned against the perils of cats on beds in his contribution, but it appears to have fallen on deaf ears chez nous: Skimble in his usual cat on top of the bed mode But what's this? Ah yes, it could only be - Jess under the duvet! For some reason Jess decided not to leap onto the top of the bed this morning, but to snuggle straight under the duvet instead. There she stayed, purring happily next to NAH's leg whilst we had breakfast. We think it harks back to her antics as a kitten. She would often climb up one arm of NAH's dressing gown, across the shoulder and down the other and nestle into the crook of his arm. Yes, this was whilst NAH was wearing it! This time I've enlisted the power of Google to find the poem below - this one's particularly appropriate for Skimble's usual behaviour. As a quality alternative, TS ...

Skimble is still my harshest critic when it comes to poetry... When the idea of Lets All Post Cat Pictures and Dire Poetry on Our Blogs day was first mooted, I thought cats - yes can do that easily, but poetry ? Oh dear, JAS has banned me from writing poetry after the great transatlantic sock wars . I've been flouting this openly ever since by posting my Magnetic Poetry anthology from 2004. I'm unchallenged thus far (perhaps JAS isn't reading my blog anymore - boo hoo), but I'm ready to argue the ban is to 'never, ever, ever, ever, ever write another poem' and I was in fact publishing archive, not fresh material. But why am I being such a wuss? Hurrah, the inaugural LAPCPADPOUB day has released my chains and freed me from such despotic tyranny! I'm standing firm with my fellow brothers and sisters who are incensed that blogging about cats and writing bad poetry should be struck off from the ether! Why such censorship when even worse crimes are c...

It's National Poetry Day today and this year's theme is Work . By an absolute coincidence this month's magnetic poem, written in October 2004 is about my work at the time, so it seems appropriate to share it with you today. This is the only poem I've written where I've been consciously inspired by another poem. Until yesterday I was only familiar with the first 4 lines: I keep six honest serving-men (They taught me all I knew); Their names are What and Why and When And How and Where and Who. These lines are oft quoted in business courses and motivational materials . I've experienced it on Total Quality Management , Train the Trainer , project management and my Diploma in Business Analysis courses. It's any easy mnemonic trotted out as being the holy grail to ensure success in requirements gathering, assessing training needs and problem solving. And yes, I've used it many times with much success in my work. However, by the time I wrote...

September 2004 - This is the kind of magnetic poem you write when you've been waking up at 3 in the morning and not getting back to sleep again in months.

My self-imposed rule of not re-using any of the words from the Magnetic Poetry calendar began to provide much more of a challenge from this month onwards in 2004. The poems are more like statements. Here I was thinking about taking my niece and nephew to the park in Wakefield one weekend when we were staying with my brother-in-law. They insisted on playing for what seemed like hours around the various animal sculptures and rocks. Finally my nephew conceded that it was quite hard for me to join in their game and could stop for a rest - 'Because you're a girl, aunty VP.' No E , because you're full of unlimited energy.

A very short poem - I was feeling extremely stressed out in a new role at work and was desperately trying to keep smiling. I think that comes across here... BTW this is from July 2004 - things are much more in proportion these days, thank goodness. Very early retirement has a lot going for it!

Come and get them Aunt Debbi, if you think you can! A couple of people have wanted to know the background to yesterday's post. So you have two choices - you can either follow the links in there , or view the abridged version below. This was submitted to The Garden Monkey earlier today as part of his current limerick challenge . Do go over and have a look, there are some absolute pearlers. Now James said, 'Look at those Phlox, And these are like gloves for a fox, And I have some Dahlia In full blooming regalia, They have no need for their socks' 'But Kate just tossed back her locks, To write in a tone that so mocks, And demanded to know Where their footwear did go, 'Are they hidden behind those rocks?' 'Ah madam, you mock me' he roared, 'I have the most well be behaved sward, Your words are too cruel And so we must duel, I defend their honour with my sword' So battle lines are now drawn, Acro...

I previewed this poem last month on Authorblog in response to his 'shortest 4 line poem' challenge. I then followed it up with: G I O U That prompted quite a bit of discussion on the theme 'But is it poetry?' Quite.

Skimble's reaction to his mum's latest doggerel By popular demand (well, er Rach actually), here's a special poem to commemorate the inaugural Fork 'n Monkey awards: The talk's this week of Chelsea And who has won the Gold, Of simplicity & greenness And planting oh so bold. But Garden Monkey's been playing Amongst his blogging pals, With promised fame and glory For all the guys & gals. Thus was Fork 'n Monkey created An award to beat 'em all, Full of fun and mayhem To keep us in his thrall. So we cogitated & nominated And added Comments too. All the votes were counted, Then all the winners knew: So here's to Wilb & Esther And Alex in his shed, To Fuggles & to Patrick And Frankie on her bed To Monty we say "Get well soon" And James - "Keep the writing flowin' ", Cleve - "You've been currying favour" And from me? Another bad poem ;)

Hurray, hurrah, harroo! I have my first award as voted for by the blogging community :o At last my bad poetry has been given the recognition it deserves. So my thanks goes to: The Garden Monkey for putting on the whole damn show in the first place; whoever it was that nominated me; everyone who voted for me; NAH who has nothing at all to do with this blog; my mum, etc etc etc... There, that was a relatively short acceptance speech and I didn't burst into tears like Gwyneth Paltrow did at the Oscars. I'm pretty chuffed actually :D The award winners are: Is There Anybody Out There? Esther in the Garden The Favourite Way of Wasting Time Shedworking The Adam Pasco Award Veg Plot Proud Parent Fuggles (for the dancing frog beansprout photo) Vegetable Matter Bifurcated Carrots What’s New Pussycat The Big Sofa - well Wilb actually (hugs from Skimble & Jess!) Inky/Green Fingers Blogging at Blackpitts We Are All in the Gutter Veg Plotting (yes, me, me , me!) Crash Bang Wal...

The public land next to us is covered in more dandelions than grass at this time of the year. Consequently, May sees a constant 'rain' of wind blown dandelion seed drifting across the garden. Oh and the swallows came back to us in May that year (2004). David McMahon has a 4 line poetry challenge for you today. Hop on over there and you can preview my offering for June.

Another example which thoroughly justifies my nomination as the worst garden blogger poet over at The Garden Monkey . I'm secretly quite proud of this, but it's early days yet re actually grabbing the award. Last week's effort garnered my nomination, but my spectacular early efforts in the genre here and here have been overlooked. They show why I need my Bad Poetry tag. This is just one category in the funtastic Fork n Monkey awards. You have until May 16th to vote. Note that some element of gardening must be included in any blog nominated. The full set of categories are: Best Writing Favourite Cat Blog Favourite Seedling Photo Favourite Snap Without Crackle or Pop Heather Mills Al Fayed Award Jeeves Award for Worst Dressed Celebrity Gardener Most Entertaining Garden Website Most Interesting Self-Portrait Most Unusual Vegetable Based Blog Not the Greatest Poetry in the World (mine!)

Hustling bustle slows To Temple tranquility Stately sentinels salute Relics in their midst Roses for rememberance Simple blossoms bloom A pause in city life Complete with birdsong Scattered thoughts Gather around me I'm at peace Time to pause, to reflect Sirens shatter stillness I walk on.

A very simple poem for this month. I was a bit miffed* I wasn't allowed to take my birthday off as holiday at the time... BTW, today isn't my birthday and I'm not miffed either :) * = ooh, ever so slightly annoyed

A Valentine poem for ???, as always.