It sat on the back porch, dirty and rusted, collecting rain water. She had bought it with high hopes for embarking on a new start. A garden she thought, what fun. It was a short lived idea, a spark of motivation that quickly dwindled and died.
Planter, does this mean a person who plants plants? It reminds me of the story who says he will plant even on the last day of the world. What do I want to plant? I want to plant a seed of love and honesty on my mind.
I know my neighbor well. Five good years of peaceful exchanges and nods over the hedge, but somehow I never took him to be a planter. Just something in his general attitude and the fact I’ve never seen him planting. Maybe it was elves or something, as now is garden is in bloom with yellow and every morning my eyes shrivel as I upon my curtains out and see my neighbors sun brightening the world.
The planter had fallen over, its occupant sprawling over the cobblestones. A few green tattered leaves remained among the dirt. She looked at this scene with detachment. The storm in her head raged more mightily than the one outside.
Minette
The planter was filled with flowers of all kinds. It rested beneath a window of a little playhouse. There was a magnolia tree to the side of it. The combined scents of jasmine, rose and magnolia drifted in the breeze. The sun bestowed it’s warmth upon all.
JP West
life is a plant. and we are the planters of it. it is up to us whether to plant it with the right condition, or let it wither in darkness, whether to water it with smiles and positivity or crumple it with scorn and virulence.
we plant new things into life each day. whether it is an idea, or a smile or a new beginning, it is us who plants and nurtures the plants of our lives. since we are the ones who plant, we
Rosh Bahri
A source of pride for me with my black thumbs: an unruly giant of a tomato plant snuggled in a cheap plastic planter. Yellow tomatoes dripped from the sprawling branches. I loved to brush my fingers over the leaves and breathe in the green scent.
He went around unnoticed,
As is often the theme with those who’s business is the underground,
Creeping and crawling
And all things familiar.
The man with one eye was ordinary in every way.
This gardener saw everything turn to mulch,
And helped the earth prevail.
They had the little babies in a planter because they needed to grow. They needed to grow plants out of their heads. If they didn’t, their science experiment would be a failure, and the police would kill them. I patted down the soil, attempting telepathy.
Isis
a gardener, flowers, strawberries, pretty. happy, sunny, summer, a person who enjoys what they do with plants and gardens. big sun flowers. yummy sun flower seeds.
Molly
farmer, corn, wheat, beer, barley. Having a largefamily makes farming life easier. Cows, dairy products. Planters harvest vegetables, transformed nomads into seasonal people.
David
The vines creeped over the planter, trying to reach the sun and escape from their prison. The planter stood firm, the golden earth true in doing it’s duty.
the planter sat just outside the front door. she had been meaning to change the pot for the fern, which seemed to be thriving with the recent attention she gave it, despite having received the plant from “him” and being tempted to let it wither and die. but she maturely decided it would be rude to hold the plant responsible for having been purchased by a no-good philandering jerk.
l
The man was a dedicated planter. He tended to his garden where he grew an abundance of different greens and gourds.
erin
She stood behind the tall planter, hoping her parents wouldn’t know she was there. They were fighting again, this time about her. They were yelling about who would take her with them. Who would take her? Where were they going?
somewhere you would plant something? i don’t know this word. :(
Grace Peace A
Vine crawl from the ground, clinging to the earthen pot. They creep towards the sun, escaping their prison, desperate to not be confined to the earth. The planter never wavers, standing firm as it fulfills its duty.
Helen Brown
i was in iraq with my turtle called planter it was full of cheese after hours of stroking the cheese out of its toe nails we came across his freind the omelete turtle baby with ten nugget babies in the play ground
#THENUMBER1PLAYER
well where to start, planter as in a gardener or planter as in a bomb planter. Either could be true, i dont know what this word means therefore i am not going to spend ages writing a load of rubbish! when really i dont have a clue what the word means
that guy that wrote this
planting
a person who grows plants
plants growing
one day a plant grow from a small planter and it planted in the garden where all the plants have been planted
garden
flowers
leaves
green
gardener
bezzlepups
A plant in an empty room. Alone and sitting. Dark, cold, waiting for the light to break through. Mist swirls around it’s roots, covering the area in a think cloud of misery.
Jamie Simpson
once upon a time, I was in Afghanistan, and the planter had already placed his bomb. I had a split second to react, could I make it? No.
Nalliot
planting C4
plants
planting
will
The planters outside are filled with plants I didn’t need, didn’t want, didn’t have the money to keep watered. I couldn’t take care of them, but people just kept giving them to me anyways. I did love plants, but what was I to do? They needed to grow in the ground, where their roots could reach down, and their leaves upwards into the sky for the nutrients that the sun gave . they cuold never do that in a planter.
planting a wonderful world of flowers and gardening the enjoyment of live and outdoors. a world of enjoyment and unknown flowers to be grown. Green, Yellow, brown, pink any color can come from the lovely garden in the spring wind.
James
bomb
power plant
tree
plant
explosive
flower
gardiner
turd
A planter plants plants, when the sun is shining bright The plant will be planted by the planter in the garden. With the worms and the trees in the summer breeze
Kirsite
all of our ancestors were one. it is extremely important task and life-sustaining. obtain more food with less area and less energy expended than hunting and gathering. it is an essential skill which is gradually being lost in modern times as it is more and more mechanized. we are creating an abundance bubble around ourselves as we depend more and more on other people to provide for our nutritional needs. what will happen when there is an energy crunch and robots become useless?
Anand
A person, who grows plants, vegetables, fruits.
Daniel
It is somebody who grows up a plant. He must have special equipment. Or it is
berelena
Firefight:
A firefight ensued in Boston last weekend, killing one person, and leaving another guilty of many crimes. It is incomprehensible, and something quite difficult to imagine. My cat pukes all the time in the meantime
Hallo
One discovering the large plot of land that was hidden behind the huge forest, the planter set about with all haste to prepare the land for food crops, and to dig trenches for irrigation.
No, not the planter again! If I were to plant a seed, I would get started, something would already be in a process. Planter sounds like planner: a way to carve up one’s stupid time. Stupid, stupid, stupid!
Hallo
“Turn left. Okay, right. Now two blocks from there, drop it.”
“Roger.” Static crackled in my ear as the transmission ended. With wailing sirens coming after me, I ran towards my destination.
It was an abandoned alleyway. Without wasting any time, I assembled the weapon. A wire here, a button there… The cry of the sirens became louder by the second.
As I heard the final /click/ that finished the job, I felt the ground rumble with the thunder of screeching cars.
“Drop your weapon.”
“Okay, you got me,” I put my hands up and left the device beeping at the ground. “Now what?”
The sound of static reached my ears. “Did you plant it?”
“Affirmative.” I smiled, eliciting a scowl from the policeman in front of me. The beeping got quicker.
“Good job.” Static filled my ears. “Mission accomplished, ____. I knew you were the best planter in our team.”
“I know.”
“Goodbye, ___.”
The static disappeared for the final time.
And then it started.
The planter was the size of an old Volkswagen beetle – in the shape of a rabbit. It’s back was full of earth and who knew what (oh please, let it be carrots growing there, she’d think as they sped by) and for awhile it’s coat of paint was peeling and decrepit. Plans to somehow steal it away in a borrowed pick-up truck in the night disappeared when, the next spring, it’s coat was fresh and gleaming white.
Oh good lord she cries
will you ever stop?
stop loving stop caring
stop feeling?
Go and plant your pansies on the other side of the road
for all I care
they may as well not be planted at all.
Angel
Mary sat upon a silver chair, rusted and old from the old days of gardening and tending to her flowers. It was covered in vines now, beautiful in its age- Just as her eyes were. Blue pools reflected off every possible surface of light, making her shine brighter than the moon ever could. At least, that’s how he always saw her.
It sat on the back porch, dirty and rusted, collecting rain water. She had bought it with high hopes for embarking on a new start. A garden she thought, what fun. It was a short lived idea, a spark of motivation that quickly dwindled and died.
Planter, does this mean a person who plants plants? It reminds me of the story who says he will plant even on the last day of the world. What do I want to plant? I want to plant a seed of love and honesty on my mind.
I know my neighbor well. Five good years of peaceful exchanges and nods over the hedge, but somehow I never took him to be a planter. Just something in his general attitude and the fact I’ve never seen him planting. Maybe it was elves or something, as now is garden is in bloom with yellow and every morning my eyes shrivel as I upon my curtains out and see my neighbors sun brightening the world.
The planter had fallen over, its occupant sprawling over the cobblestones. A few green tattered leaves remained among the dirt. She looked at this scene with detachment. The storm in her head raged more mightily than the one outside.
The planter was filled with flowers of all kinds. It rested beneath a window of a little playhouse. There was a magnolia tree to the side of it. The combined scents of jasmine, rose and magnolia drifted in the breeze. The sun bestowed it’s warmth upon all.
life is a plant. and we are the planters of it. it is up to us whether to plant it with the right condition, or let it wither in darkness, whether to water it with smiles and positivity or crumple it with scorn and virulence.
My mother was a great planter in my grandfather`s farm.
we plant new things into life each day. whether it is an idea, or a smile or a new beginning, it is us who plants and nurtures the plants of our lives. since we are the ones who plant, we
A source of pride for me with my black thumbs: an unruly giant of a tomato plant snuggled in a cheap plastic planter. Yellow tomatoes dripped from the sprawling branches. I loved to brush my fingers over the leaves and breathe in the green scent.
He went around unnoticed,
As is often the theme with those who’s business is the underground,
Creeping and crawling
And all things familiar.
The man with one eye was ordinary in every way.
This gardener saw everything turn to mulch,
And helped the earth prevail.
They had the little babies in a planter because they needed to grow. They needed to grow plants out of their heads. If they didn’t, their science experiment would be a failure, and the police would kill them. I patted down the soil, attempting telepathy.
a gardener, flowers, strawberries, pretty. happy, sunny, summer, a person who enjoys what they do with plants and gardens. big sun flowers. yummy sun flower seeds.
farmer, corn, wheat, beer, barley. Having a largefamily makes farming life easier. Cows, dairy products. Planters harvest vegetables, transformed nomads into seasonal people.
The vines creeped over the planter, trying to reach the sun and escape from their prison. The planter stood firm, the golden earth true in doing it’s duty.
the planter sat just outside the front door. she had been meaning to change the pot for the fern, which seemed to be thriving with the recent attention she gave it, despite having received the plant from “him” and being tempted to let it wither and die. but she maturely decided it would be rude to hold the plant responsible for having been purchased by a no-good philandering jerk.
The man was a dedicated planter. He tended to his garden where he grew an abundance of different greens and gourds.
She stood behind the tall planter, hoping her parents wouldn’t know she was there. They were fighting again, this time about her. They were yelling about who would take her with them. Who would take her? Where were they going?
I imagine, that I am the planter. I will reap what I sow. Her love!
somewhere you would plant something? i don’t know this word. :(
Vine crawl from the ground, clinging to the earthen pot. They creep towards the sun, escaping their prison, desperate to not be confined to the earth. The planter never wavers, standing firm as it fulfills its duty.
i was in iraq with my turtle called planter it was full of cheese after hours of stroking the cheese out of its toe nails we came across his freind the omelete turtle baby with ten nugget babies in the play ground
well where to start, planter as in a gardener or planter as in a bomb planter. Either could be true, i dont know what this word means therefore i am not going to spend ages writing a load of rubbish! when really i dont have a clue what the word means
planting
a person who grows plants
plants growing
one day a plant grow from a small planter and it planted in the garden where all the plants have been planted
garden
flowers
leaves
green
gardener
A plant in an empty room. Alone and sitting. Dark, cold, waiting for the light to break through. Mist swirls around it’s roots, covering the area in a think cloud of misery.
once upon a time, I was in Afghanistan, and the planter had already placed his bomb. I had a split second to react, could I make it? No.
planting C4
plants
planting
The planters outside are filled with plants I didn’t need, didn’t want, didn’t have the money to keep watered. I couldn’t take care of them, but people just kept giving them to me anyways. I did love plants, but what was I to do? They needed to grow in the ground, where their roots could reach down, and their leaves upwards into the sky for the nutrients that the sun gave . they cuold never do that in a planter.
planting a wonderful world of flowers and gardening the enjoyment of live and outdoors. a world of enjoyment and unknown flowers to be grown. Green, Yellow, brown, pink any color can come from the lovely garden in the spring wind.
bomb
power plant
tree
plant
explosive
flower
gardiner
A planter plants plants, when the sun is shining bright The plant will be planted by the planter in the garden. With the worms and the trees in the summer breeze
all of our ancestors were one. it is extremely important task and life-sustaining. obtain more food with less area and less energy expended than hunting and gathering. it is an essential skill which is gradually being lost in modern times as it is more and more mechanized. we are creating an abundance bubble around ourselves as we depend more and more on other people to provide for our nutritional needs. what will happen when there is an energy crunch and robots become useless?
A person, who grows plants, vegetables, fruits.
It is somebody who grows up a plant. He must have special equipment. Or it is
Firefight:
A firefight ensued in Boston last weekend, killing one person, and leaving another guilty of many crimes. It is incomprehensible, and something quite difficult to imagine. My cat pukes all the time in the meantime
One discovering the large plot of land that was hidden behind the huge forest, the planter set about with all haste to prepare the land for food crops, and to dig trenches for irrigation.
No, not the planter again! If I were to plant a seed, I would get started, something would already be in a process. Planter sounds like planner: a way to carve up one’s stupid time. Stupid, stupid, stupid!
“Turn left. Okay, right. Now two blocks from there, drop it.”
“Roger.” Static crackled in my ear as the transmission ended. With wailing sirens coming after me, I ran towards my destination.
It was an abandoned alleyway. Without wasting any time, I assembled the weapon. A wire here, a button there… The cry of the sirens became louder by the second.
As I heard the final /click/ that finished the job, I felt the ground rumble with the thunder of screeching cars.
“Drop your weapon.”
“Okay, you got me,” I put my hands up and left the device beeping at the ground. “Now what?”
The sound of static reached my ears. “Did you plant it?”
“Affirmative.” I smiled, eliciting a scowl from the policeman in front of me. The beeping got quicker.
“Good job.” Static filled my ears. “Mission accomplished, ____. I knew you were the best planter in our team.”
“I know.”
“Goodbye, ___.”
The static disappeared for the final time.
And then it started.
The planter was the size of an old Volkswagen beetle – in the shape of a rabbit. It’s back was full of earth and who knew what (oh please, let it be carrots growing there, she’d think as they sped by) and for awhile it’s coat of paint was peeling and decrepit. Plans to somehow steal it away in a borrowed pick-up truck in the night disappeared when, the next spring, it’s coat was fresh and gleaming white.
Oh good lord she cries
will you ever stop?
stop loving stop caring
stop feeling?
Go and plant your pansies on the other side of the road
for all I care
they may as well not be planted at all.
Mary sat upon a silver chair, rusted and old from the old days of gardening and tending to her flowers. It was covered in vines now, beautiful in its age- Just as her eyes were. Blue pools reflected off every possible surface of light, making her shine brighter than the moon ever could. At least, that’s how he always saw her.