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I would love to join a “Dirty Hands” Garden Club;
One whose members know more about fertilizers
Than they do about wines…
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I’d want our meetings spent wandering through nurseries,
Learning from expert gardeners,
Or building community gardens…
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Not frittered away in chit chat over hors d’oeuvres .
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And all of us would be at least a little expert in something,
Glad to share what we’ve learned;
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And we all would love putting our hands in the dirt
To help something grow.
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My club would collect species, not dues;
Re-build ecosystems rather than plant ivy and box.
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We “dirty hands” gardeners can band together
In spirit, if not in four walls.
We can share plants and insights,
Instigate, propagate, and appreciate;
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Perhaps we can even help rehabilitate
Some sterile lawn somewhere
Into something which nurtures beauty
And feeds souls….
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A gift of Siberian Iris, from Barbara, growing in a new section of the garden.
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Others can judge flowers,
Decorate homes at Christmas
And organize tours.
These things are needed, too.
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(But I would rather be out in the garden;
Where cardinals preside over the morning meeting,
And hummingbirds are our special guests for the day.
The daily agenda ranges from watering to transplanting;
From pruning to watching for turtles and dragonflies.)
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We wear our muddy shoes and well worn gloves with pride,
Our spades and pruners always close at hand.
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We converse with Nature,
And re-build the web strand by strand,
Plant by plant.
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If this invitation speaks to you,
Perhaps we can work together,
From wherever we might find ourselves
Around the globe.
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We can each put our hands in the dirt
and create a garden,
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Nurture Beauty,
And restore health and vitality to our Earth, together.
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Does a “Dirty Hands” Garden Club
Appeal to you?
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