View from the Vestibule

View from the Vestibule


Ger (short for Geranium) rose from the windowsill where she be stationed looking out at the gate no one ever entered. Her eyes gazed in longing at Clem (short for Clematis), free to swing, twist, and twine her way across the trellis.

Yes, she loved her own soft pink silk; but Clem — Clem had all the fun.

She didn't envy Rose (short for Melrose Blackberry) though, not for his thorns nor his arrogant one-day-I'm-here-then-I'm-gone attitude. She preferred to be friendly and admired all year long. She was house-broken not a wild bramble. Yes, his kiss was dark and sweet and, you know what they say...

They would chat about this or that, the scrawny dog or the big fat cat. Birds-of-all-colors would flit in and out to bring them gossip. Apparently there was more to the world than a gazebo, a thirsty lawn and a broken down mower.

Lion (short for dandelion) chortled that the weeds didn't complain, not like some pampered...

They'd banter back-and-forth in the quiet between storms. Never a peep though when the Two-Leggeds came around.

They all agreed on that and that nighttime was a good time to snooze but tonight Fool Moon kept on shining. They could sense restlessness in the air and rustles outside their refuge. They slept uneasy, aware.

Ger was wide awake. She couldn't close her eyes like Gaz (short for Gazania). She didn't practice nyctinasty.

Not that it mattered! Even Gaz woke up to the howling, screeching and soft thump followed by more howling and a cacophony of curses.

Rose had saved the day as the intruder fell into his thorny arms. Catherine (long for cat) swore she would never forgive him. And we — haven't stopped laughing and spitting out buds ever since.

wc ~294