“I have brought you lilies to paint” were her words.
(The result which I returned to her as a finished painting. Though in the end I had to put the lilies outside as the scent was overwhelming – plus they are very poisonous to cats if they get the pollen on their coat and lick themselves; no more pussy! Can’t have that !)
When a friend calls to me from the road
And slows his horse to a meaning walk,
I don’t stand still and look around
On all the hills I haven’t hoed,
And shout from where I am,
What is it? No, not as there is a time to talk.
I thrust my hoe in the mellow ground,
Blade-end up and five feet tall, And plod:
I go up to the stone wall
For a friendly visit.
This attitude to life is much easier now I am retired. However, time seems to rush by and there is an awful lot of “hoeing” to do in the veg garden – the weeds are rampant after the recent spell of rain . . . . .