Ode to Weeds

Oh, beautiful for flowers small and wild variety,
Famed for unique design and curious complexity,

Nearly camouflaged in color, some of you are barely seen;
Others sprout in wild defiance, proudly wearing shades of green.

Persistently determined (from experience I’ve learned)
Emblazoned in a sidewalk crack when my back is turned.

Spring’s recent shower seems to have revitalized your beauty;
Strong-willed, you keep coming back, your staunchly stubborn duty.

Your bonnie blooms are completely unappreciated;
Your usefulness, my dislike of you, is now contemplated.

Your roots so long and tangled in non-uniformity;
I tug and then I conquer you, your toughness I can see.

I question all the work involved, oh, what is best to do?
Pull by hand in admiration, or spray the toxic brew?

In God’s wisdom He designed this fascinating sphere,
But I question your invasion, especially right here.

Would that I had gardened in Eden so far away and fair,
Then this irritating burden would not be mine to bear.

Your rowdy seed I do not need, as yet the breezes blow;
I ponder life’s existence and things I do not know.

Here, in conclusion, my simple song I urge you heed,
In tribute grudgingly, this springtime Ode to Weeds.

By Elaine Hardt ©2005