NaPoWriMo 2015 – Day 24 – “in a vien of parody” – from How I Became a Garden Renegade

Path 2 2012

In the picture a recent path laying in progress. Spade and all which I love.

the prompt for day 24;But take a favorite (or unfavorite) poem of the past, and see if you can’t re-write it on humorous, mocking, or sharp-witted lines. You can use your poem to make fun of the original (in the vein of a parody), or turn the form and manner of the original into a vehicle for making points about something else (more of a satire – though the dividing lines get rather confused and thin at times). I set myself a few rules in choosing  Andrew Marvells’ poem (see below). One, to use the form of his poem i.e. 8 lines to a stanza; same rhyme scheme, even his unusual use of semi colons (and yes I used to write like that and feel how that worked.) And of course I stuck with his subject matter, same as I used for my poem yesterday but today I take a different view. It’s not Mr Nobody who made me do it. This time it was Mr Marvell.


 How I Became a Garden Renegade


Do I need this, do I truly need?

Apples falling, see here – my nose bleeds;

The measly clusters on my vine

Into each cheeky bird-beak goes my wine;

The nectarines and wrinkled peach

At the top of the tree and out of reach;

Pinball melons, such a farce

Devoid of flowers, devoid my lawn of grass.


Meanwhile, I am a depressing mess

Withdrawn, as on and on I obsess;

The mind grown small with the grind

‘Tis terrible such a soul confined;

To blank such wretched thoughts as these,

Of none of this am I relieved;

Give to me no hand on spade

How have I become a garden renegade?

Benita H. Kape © 25.4.2015


fromThoughts in a Garden


What wondrous life is this I lead!

Ripe apples drop about my head;

The luscious clusters of the vine

Upon my mouth do crush their wine;

The nectarine and curious peach

Into my hands themselves do reach;

Stumbling on melons, as I pass,

Ensnared with flowers, I fall on grass.


Meanwhile the mind from pleasure less

Withdraws into its happiness;

The mind, that Ocean where each kind

Does straight its own resemblance find;

Yet it creates, transcending these,

Far other worlds, and other seas;

Annihilating all that’s made

To a green thought in a green shade.

Andrew Marvell

Now I told you all Cretans are liars didn’t I.