Bri Edwards

In a previous poem I set the stage for this addendum to the tale
of seeds that listened to my love's wishes and took action.
Though their action left us with no Internet, or phones, or even mail,
what the seeds started, ended with our relative satisfaction.

Up from the seeds sprang imprisoning apple and grape vegetation
which managed to deny us outside communication and egress from our home,
causing my love and me an immense amount of agitation ……, but
…as I write this addendum, my love and I have back our freedom to communicate and roam.

After failing to hack our way out of the house with big kitchen knives,
we began to run out of food in our house, though, for two weeks, to ration we did our best.
Then, to our surprise, the imprisoning vegetation became home to several large bee hives,
and also the birds we used to feed built dozens of egg-filled nests.

So if we weren't real pigs, we now had, just outside our windows, plenty of eggs and honey.
The apple trees and grape vines MAGICALLY matured, providing us with yummy fruit galore.
Our backyard deer brought, to our windows, garden and wild veggies from hillside plots, fertile and sunny.
Even hawks and owls left some tasty morsels caught that day or the night before.

We had our gas and electric and water service, so those weren't a worry,
but we ran out of cooking oil and butter, so my love, the cook, had to steam or boil.
We also ran out of milk, coffee, cocoa, cereal and flour in a hurry.
BUT what almost caused my love to crack, was running out of tea, which she NEEDS like most plants need soil.

The life changes imposed upon us by the "listening seeds" were due to their respect for my wife.....;
.....they had done what they had to, to fulfill her expressed wish to do without outside communication.
But after several months, those seeds' children understood what was happening to our life.
Sure we were surviving, but the stress (if we could REACH a lawyer) might result in marital litigation.

Unknown to us, the seeds of the fruits we now ate "spoke" to the trees and vines outside our windows and door.
One morning, for the first time in months my love and I could see the morning sun.
The computer wire had been returned; our cell phones (our only phones) were lying on the bedroom floor.
Once our imprisoning-bars, the apple and grape plants had withdrawn, as though they were now on the run.

A happy ending, and a lesson learned. Careful what you wish for!

(Dec.2012)