Today was hot and steamy
So when Hubs got home from work,
He waited for a while ’til eventide,
To step outside and walk the dog,
Do some pruning, pull some weeds,
And enjoy the garden’s beauty, satisfied.
But when at last he came indoors,
And slowly trudged his way upstairs,
He sadly shook his head and heaved a sigh.
All the ripening cherries, that I’d photographed with joy
Were gone, the tree stripped bare of every one
“The birds have taken all,” he said, “and there shall be no pie.”
Some times it doesn’t pay, I thought
To look too far ahead,
And taste your pies before they have been cooked.
The unforeseen can interfere
With all one’s cherished dreams,
Like counting your fish caught before its hooked.
So now our plans have shifted,
To some perhaps more feasible.
A more likely set of hopes are flying high.
For now the fruit is gone, the birds
Might pose once more before my len.s
Some recompense, since there shall be no pie.
That pie would have tasted wonderful, but admittedly, neither of us really needed it. Besides, the birds let us have every single cherry last year. This year because of the cold, our harvest was probably not going to be much more than enough for a pie or two anyway. Our somewhat greedy birds decided that this year was their turn. More power to them. Perhaps, though we should enter into negotiations for next year, if the weather cooperates, that is. I will stop my complaining. In the final analysis, Hubs and I have been blessed with an abundance of enough. . .