Some Wordless Wednesdays need a few words.
A few weeks ago, I planted a Meyer lemon tree. To say I was thrilled when blossoms appeared would be an understatement. Each day, I walked by the small tree and planted my nose into the cluster of sweet-smelling flowers.
In time, the flowers withered and small green nubs appeared — my first lemon harvest. Granted they were far from ripe, but my mouth watered with dreams of freshly squeezed lemonade and zesty gratings on vegetables.
When one of those green nubs turned yellow — lemony yellow — I think I did a skip to the door to call Joe outside to take a look. My little lemon — together we would concoct potions to share with neighbors.
Then the wind came and on my morning stroll, I noticed my little lemon on the ground, knocked from the rest of the cluster. As I held it gently in the palm of my hand, I knew I had to write an ode.
My Little Lemon
I think that I shall never see
A little lemon as lovely as thee.
You were barely grown,
When the wind had blown,
Leaving you quite smaller than a pea.
Nitty Gritty Dirt Man 
Kevin,
You are a poet! Poor Lemon Tree. It had so much promise.
Alesia — you should see the lemons on the tree now. Not juice-able, but certainly bigger than the tip of a pen! 🙂
Thanks for the snowy, cold morning chuckle!!! That was quite a cute lemon, by the way! So sorry it met its match with the mean ol’ wind!!! Keep warm!
Hi Aunt Pat. Glad I could warm you up! 🙂
The God does exist! in the smile of the mother, children, flowers and plants and more so I love every tiny smile on the mother and god nature!
Hello Vasudevan. Beautifully said. Thank you for your comment.
Aaah, what a heartbreaking wee lemon! Too cute by half.
Hi Joanna. I think my lemon was wee-er than wee. I’m not sure there’s a word for that — but I also thought it was cute. Thanks for stopping by. 🙂
I really smiled at the end of your post. It was so tiny and taken before its time. Oh well, you will have your lemons soon. Cute post and poem.
Hi Donna. Sometimes we need to smile — at our gardening foibles and the jokes that nature throws our way. 🙂
Poem and tragedy all in one. I’m just jealous you can grow lemon trees! Keep us posted. I bet you have lots of sweet lemonade very soon.
Brenda — each day I go outside and examine the lemons that remain on the tree. They’re all still green, but they are getting larger. They’re about the size of a plump raisin at the moment. 🙂
My lime and lemon tree both drop these and I always feel slightly sad at what could have been. Your poem, I think, may bring a slight smile to my face next time instead.
Hi PlumDirt. If you can smile, then the life of my little lemon was worth it. 🙂
So small I almost missed it !
Hi Dorris. I almost missed it too! 🙂
A sweet pea. 🙂
Hi Mario. Thanks for the smile! 🙂
A lovely panegyric. Seeing how attentive you were to his progeny, I am sure the lemon tree will produce many more new babies for you!
Hi Alain. I’m hoping for many lemons to come. Thanks for stopping by. 🙂
Brilliant!
Well apart from your lack of lemons growing on your tree that is
Hello Claire. I may be turning to you for some lemon recipes — should lemons ever appear on the tree. 🙂
Aw, poor little lemon, stricken down too soon!
I hardly ever do Wordless Wednesdays posts anymore, as I always have stuff to say! 🙂
Hi Indie. I don’t think I’ve ever been wordless. Maybe we should call it Less Words Wednesday! 🙂