A sandstorm

April arrived fluttering like a butterfly-

Resplendent,

full of colour in my back yard,

Saying hello to

purples and mauves

huddled together

in the tall black pot.

His iridescence beamed-

on reds, oranges and pinks

lined up like 

little ballerinas

waiting for their

teacher to enter

the studio

in their fluffy tutus.

The birds sang songs with

sweet melodies

to please April

while

his furtive flights

touched

yellows and greens

peeping through the

larger trees. 

The whites were the first to notice

April's concealed cunning,

but they kept quiet.

Cloaked in Dust,

stormed April one day

and smothered the colours

in a sandy veil.

All that shone

Was gone.

Breath-

Stifled by the tiny particles of sand and dust

Clogging.

Coughing.

Into a thousand pieces

my heart broke

when I stepped out

and saw

the blushing brides 

burdened

with burqaas

so heavy

they broke their backs.

A few

lay martyred on the sand covered bricks.

Scenes of Syria

on the BBC

after a bomb attack

dust and debris

children’s faces

innocent eyes

but no smiles

questions buried

under the sandstorm of egos

caked in mud

dried and dying

young.

Why?

I asked.

And took the hose out.

April sighed

and delivered his message-

'Life happens when we are making plans.'

'Stop the strutting you fool!'

he chided.

‘these are not your flowers

your back yard

your garden

YOU belong to them

You are at their service.

Get up.

Dust off.

Stop whining.

Wash off the expectation.

Prune that ego.

Open your eyes

and look at the gold that 

I sprinkled

to

change 

your Perspective

You don't own.

You belong.

It’s a sandstorm.

It’s not Syria.'

*************
Perspective is a clever companion.

A fellow yogi mentioned the word when I was complaining about how horrid the back yard looked and how I had spent the entire morning cleaning up. 
It made me stop and think and the poetry (or the words above) demanded to be written.

Feeling rich and abundant-
owning nothing.

I belong to the sand particles
and will become one someday.

Such riches need to be shared. 

So, here are some shots of the Garden Party- 
the before, the after and the after after 
the sandstorm...

Purples and mauves...Verbenas, Alyssums, Violas, Scabiosa grew together this season.

Snipping or cutting (called deadheading) the old blooms really encourages new ones.
So don't be shy- snip away.

Reds, Oranges and Pinks in their tutus.

This year, Hibiscus plants and Gazanias flourished happily:)

The first lot of Zinnia seedlings I bought died- almost all of them. A few of the plants that I grew from seed did well. This flower is from the second lot I bought from a different nursery. They're doing fine.

Morning Glory grew gloriously well this year- it's the easiest plant to grow from seed and its voracious appetite to grow and climb is insatiable. 
It gives and gives...just make sure it gets a bit of shade when the sun is too hot and lots of water- 
it gets thirsty.
It reminds me of my teenager son- walking stomach- growing taller every day:)

Trailing geraniums filled many baskets and kept me from doing the laundry many a times. 

I stand and stare for hours at these beauties. 
Just stand and stare-
sometimes 
with love
and sometimes
with wonder
but always
with gratitude.
Thank you for
filling  my life
with 
colours of joy
and 
generosity.

I'm not sure what this plant is called. A friend calls is Cat's Tail- 
please enlighten me if you know.

It's a slow starter but very very sturdy.
It doesn't die in the sweltering heat of Doha's summer.
You can use is to fill baskets and pots.

I usually plant these with petunias and the asparagus fern- so that by the time the petunia is bidding us farewell, these beauties come out and say hello-
the party carries on...

Yellows and Greens...

Snapdragons are the easiest to grow in Doha. Just keep deadheading the old blooms.

Lantana

"The Whites were first to notice..."

Sweet Alyssums

 Seductive Gardenia

Intoxicating Jasmine- Mogra

 Asparagus in bloom.

Cloaked in Dust,
stormed April one day

and sprinkled gold.

GOLD DEPOSITS on my windscreen.

'Why?'
I thought,
And took the hose out...

Fresh,
Clean
and 

Radiant...

Lest we forget
that
each
moment counts.

Moments make days
and days make lives. 

'We live our lives- the way we live our days.' 

words I read somewhere,
 I can't recall where.

I live my moments.
I
stand
and
stare
and smell
the roses-
any chance I get.

A dear friend gave me this rose bush when she moved.
Oh! You have to smell the sweet sweet smell to get a whiff of heaven. 
Thank you Mimi:) xx





I was out in the yard when the news of the earthquake in Nepal came through. 
I pray for the souls and the survivors and carry on.

Life's fickle
and
Death's
unpredictable.

'WHY'
comes back to haunt.

I breathe in 
and 
grab the moment.

Life
and 
Death-
the
inseparable
cosmic
companions
dance
to
show me
where
I belong.