deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Grander Scheme
If you see a ladybird
bring her home to me
that she might feast upon the branches
of my dear old apple tree
We fill our fields with poison
frail hedgerows in decline
Mother Nature turns her back
and we ignore the signs
If you see a ladybird
fetch her home to me
to feast upon the branches
of my dearest apple tree
The spider on the wall
knows more than you or I
that she must mend a broken web
in order to survive
So if you see a ladybird
bring her home to me
Tell her she is needed there
as much as any bee
bring her home to me
that she might feast upon the branches
of my dear old apple tree
We fill our fields with poison
frail hedgerows in decline
Mother Nature turns her back
and we ignore the signs
If you see a ladybird
fetch her home to me
to feast upon the branches
of my dearest apple tree
The spider on the wall
knows more than you or I
that she must mend a broken web
in order to survive
So if you see a ladybird
bring her home to me
Tell her she is needed there
as much as any bee
Published 30th May 2023
| Edited 1st Jun 2023
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The author encourages honest critique.
30th May 2023 4:49pm
Beautiful.
We've got a plum tree in our back yard that plays host to a particular type of small yellow spider.
We've got a plum tree in our back yard that plays host to a particular type of small yellow spider.
Anonymous
30th May 2023 6:07pm
Alright pen wheeler. Coloured in a page yet? The local council done you for rogue graffiti? :p
In the spirit of honest, as much as I love the message and looking after the little bugs, st1 L3 sticks out for me in terms of rhythm of the overall. I feel like if that was changed to match “to feast upon the branches” in other stanzas, that would almost certainly tighten up the rhythm of the read. All thoughts of course. Feel free to listen to some or none at all.
It did however make me smile as a whole. Ladybugs are terribly underrated and deserve a poem every now and then.
Thanks for sharing.
-M
Ps: Please don’t send me the council bill for the ASBO by sharpie pen.
In the spirit of honest, as much as I love the message and looking after the little bugs, st1 L3 sticks out for me in terms of rhythm of the overall. I feel like if that was changed to match “to feast upon the branches” in other stanzas, that would almost certainly tighten up the rhythm of the read. All thoughts of course. Feel free to listen to some or none at all.
It did however make me smile as a whole. Ladybugs are terribly underrated and deserve a poem every now and then.
Thanks for sharing.
-M
Ps: Please don’t send me the council bill for the ASBO by sharpie pen.
31st May 2023 11:11am
You're absolutely correct to point out the stumble, M but the elongated L3 sticking out like a sore thumb is also a brake for the sing-songy rhythm so beloved by the whores of rhyme. I felt as it's a serious subject that it could give the reader an exagerrated pause for thought earlyish rather than being swept onwards willy nilly in the fashion of an inebriated playground chant.
This scrib stems from disasters with my fruit trees last year which were overwhelmed by aphids, despite my best efforts to introduce the local ladybirds to a free all you can eat banquet the short sighted buggers all flew off in other directions (ironic now all our houses are burning). Thus the convoluted "that she might feast"
This year I have only seen one rather small dejected ladybird and was soberly reminded of Rachel Carson. But then I'd be miffed if I was male and everyone called me a lady.
I have always been a serial tweaker, none of my poems are ever finished, so this is certain to evolve. I am not at all happy with the last line and am waiting patiently for my subconscious to come up with a killer. Maybe I need to make a wish.
Ps: You will be reassured to know that after an exhausting overnight ordeal I have finally bitten off the electronic tag (they taste disgusting btw) and armed with a new identity am again free to roam and scribble in forbidden places disguised as Mary the Milkmaid. The three legged stool is proving invaluable as a rest for my notebook ~A
This scrib stems from disasters with my fruit trees last year which were overwhelmed by aphids, despite my best efforts to introduce the local ladybirds to a free all you can eat banquet the short sighted buggers all flew off in other directions (ironic now all our houses are burning). Thus the convoluted "that she might feast"
This year I have only seen one rather small dejected ladybird and was soberly reminded of Rachel Carson. But then I'd be miffed if I was male and everyone called me a lady.
I have always been a serial tweaker, none of my poems are ever finished, so this is certain to evolve. I am not at all happy with the last line and am waiting patiently for my subconscious to come up with a killer. Maybe I need to make a wish.
Ps: You will be reassured to know that after an exhausting overnight ordeal I have finally bitten off the electronic tag (they taste disgusting btw) and armed with a new identity am again free to roam and scribble in forbidden places disguised as Mary the Milkmaid. The three legged stool is proving invaluable as a rest for my notebook ~A
31st May 2023 11:25am
Anonymous
31st May 2023 11:17pm
On the last line … ‘there’ as much as any bee?
What can I say. I’m a fiddler. 😬
-M
What can I say. I’m a fiddler. 😬
-M
1st Jun 2023 9:32am
Should really be here there and everywhere but I concur with thanks. We're all on the fiddle it seems.
