The weeds grow so freely, their confidence wedded to their liberty, to their growth determined by nature's hand rather than the trowel. They elevate the mood higher than a row of perfect roses ever could. Perhaps my heart and soul are wildflowers; perhaps that's why I love them so.
Between the paving stones comes blooms so bold and tall, giving of their aroma to the summer-infused breeze. For these seeds of humble size and hue are the ninjas of the botanical world, born to shout loud of their graffiti-petaled beauty.
I have always felt as if I were the weed of this garden, yet the bees and nature do love them so. We grow bold and strong, often where least expected and apparently without any golden invitation. They can't see what weeds are until they bloom, so little attention does our development garner. Yet our fragrance is as aromatic and our nectar as sweet as any other. We bring that creative richness, that smirk of a smile when at last our vibrant petals show, the gifts we have to offer received with gratitude.
The weeds bring their buoyant riot of gregarious joy. They come from the rain soaked soil to bring this richness, this festival for any eye capable of seeing their spirit.
The weeds wrap themselves around the drainpipe as a lover hold the hand of her beloved. They wish to climb and bloom, to adorn and to love, to seize the day in a that spirit of adventure the growing season brings.
The weeds grow so high upon the green rooftops, their petals smiling in the new day. They are the decoration nature brings to this urban-topia of ours, the monet that raindrops paint upon the ground and sky.
The vibrant weeds are the aces of the garden, as if when dealt by natures hand they belong there in a way the regimented rows if blooms can never do.
These vibrant weeds are my natural high, their psychedelic petals bringing the same joy as a greenhouse orchid. They are what God gives to bring joy to our days, to show that our creator is an artist too.
The word weed simply refers to a plant growing where humans typically would rather it did not, more often than not they are the native, robust plants that give more benefit to the local ecosystem. Yet the word conjures negative responses, negative emotions that are harmful when they result in people poisoning plants that should be left to thrive. So perhaps some words need abandoning, or modifying, instead of "weed" should we be saying "native plant"?