Gerberas can wash up your grubby soul with glad news!
When the day allows those glum goblins to grab it to bite it up or throw it down the nearest well, like the most wicked witch of adversity, the gerberas, sweetly and surely, like the sun, come calling. They kidnap the dribbles of tainted time from the mouth of misery! Then they set about planning how to save the sullen, the swollen, the soaked in sorrow time from such useless bullying!
I only discovered Gerberas quite by chance one year, when I had gone as usual to gloat over all the roses in the rose patch in the Government nursery, and to take them into my Nikon with love. How clichéd! I know! And then one day the Gerberas peered out at me from the cool, new shelter made nearby for other flowers and plants like the orchids, the asters, the cactus and other lesser worshipped flowers.
These new flowers were somewhat unnerving – they appeared to wear the
oddest kinds of buttoned ornaments. They were like the
Delfiniums I had seen in London parks, also showing off neatly stitched necklines and circled waists!
But the Gerberas were much more than just flowers that wore very dazzling dresses! They were also odd, weird, funny, and often decided to dance, to wrap
themselves around their own, like a mother and daughter, a sister and niece, a lover and his girlfriend, or whatever they chose to imitate. Sometimes they even seemed to gossip, clearly indicating that they had something on their neighbours, that could get them into real deep trouble! Something dark and despicable, or shady and slimy, and the neighbours better watch out!
So then I began to watch the gerberas more than I watched the roses, because though roses are the joyful jewels of the garden, they are also meek and too good I thought. But the gerberas had a certain jollity, a mysterious cheekiness that always took me by surprise. And they always posed more entertainingly than the roses: glued together, stitched up, huggers, swirling twirling, comics and comedians!
And so it came about over several weeks months and then a year, that the Gerbera cunningly lured me into its community of the wonderfully weird! It had stunning treasures to dazzle me with – a pink and milk white , grey and green and very often a mesmerizing red and gold paint that was the undoing of me. That very same day I deposited my heart in the care of this dotty, dependable delirious cheeky grammar of guiltless glad news from the garden! And she has never let me go now to the roses without first visiting her and paying up my dues for delighting my soul by giving up her heart of gold to me!