Beware the garden party
where evil spells are cast
by ladies in flowered sun hats.
You might find yourself nibbling
rock cake with a pinky high,
or find your high heels sunk
into fertile, loamy ground.
But that’s not the worst, oh no!
You might find that birds
dive bomb your bonnet
or squirrels run up your sleeve.
Or wicked teens drive by
and shout “Show some ankle!”
Someone does lift a leg,
but it’s only the spaniel,
watering the hydrangea,
right below your hem.
The weather takes a sultry turn,
and you use your napkin as a fan,
only to remember too late,
the crumbs from the rock cake.
When they splatter the hostess,
just chuckle and blush —
it’s those evil spells,
none are immune.
You’ve done your part
to make the lawn into art –
now it’s time to depart.

Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham

Note: I was inspired to write this summer poem when I researched garden party hats, because my hibiscus blooms make me think of a garden party, resplendent with lavish sun hats. The Duchess of Cambridge is helping make the fascinator popular. I had never heard of a fascinator, how out of touch, I am. I learned that it’s an artful concoction that decorates a woman’s head, designed to fascinate. The word fascinate ultimately comes from the Latin fascinum, “an evil spell.” I immediately imagined what evil spells could be woven at a Garden Party. I hope you like the results. Perhaps you have some disasters to add that have happened to you in real life or imagination.