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Garden Poetry
| Forever and a Day
If I could trek across the sea
And sail the billowing hay
I’d travel on through sun and storm
Forever and a day.
If I could snare the cloud ships down
And catch the wind at play
I’d hunt among the moonlit fields
Forever and a day.
If I could echo the autumn’s call
And the rock’s low roundelay
I’d sing a wild, enchanted song
Forever and a day.
If I could love, but once, all things
That come or go or stay
I’d lie peaceful in the earth’s dark arms
Forever and a day.
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| Gardening
I drew a
garden in my mind
Of such beauty, grace and ease
That even sorrow turned to joy
Among the dancing leaves.
I drifted lovely as a mist
And trilled birds into my palm
I sat upon a sun-warmed bench
Surrounded by the calm
But I tend the garden on my knees
My sweat drips in the dirt
My nails are black, my neck is red
I never wear a skirt.
And yet my garden brings to me
The blessings I had wished
Of beauty and serenity
Of life I might have missed.
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The Things I Need
Not too
much:
A shovel
and seeds.
That's all
I need.
And I
suppose I must confess,
A humble
seat on which to rest.
A stake
for this, the shears for that,
And
goodness, I forgot my hat.
A rake for
leaves, a fork for roots,
It's wet-
I guess I'll get my boots
I'll start
the instant I get the trowel.
But I
think I need the bathroom, now.
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Next Year
Pessimists
don’t garden.
They
never learned the gardener’s secret chant:
Next
Year, Next Year, Next Year-
(
bigger, brighter, bushier, better)
Certainly,
Next Year.
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December
Dreams
No
sooner does the frozen ground
bring end to gardening pleasures
Than
I am lost in splendid thought
Of
evenings filled with leisure.
Of
perfect blooms and willing forms
Of
rain in gentle measures
Of
liquid light and drowsy bees
Of
earth and all it’s treasures.
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Birthday Wishes
If kisses were raindrops, I'd send you a shower,
If hugs last a second, I'd send you an hour,
If laughter and tears could be gathered with
twine,
I'd bale them like hay, and keep you for mine.
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Neglected
Garden
Sweet
burden waiting crossways to my doom
A
drift of lavender
The
frothing white of spume
In
star-crossed lovers bound
with
chains of green, with grey-white down
With
arching umbrelled royal heads,
Magenta
columns, Lacy threads.
These
ragged beggars come to me
A
hand outstretched, a bended knee.
And
in my pity I allow,
a
corner, or a shady bower
To
call their own which once was all
And
find them bent upon my fall
From
order’s grace to wilder place
Til
laughing, I behead them all.
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Central Ohio gardeners will recognize the 'chains of
green' as Hedge Bindweed, the 'grey-white down' as blown Dandelion, and
the 'royal heads' are Queen Ann's Lace. 'Magenta columns' is our
magnificent Pokeweed, which people would pay lots of money for if it
weren't as common as dirt, and the lacy threads are the awful Stickery
Bob.
Garden Variety
Magic
When I came out to see the dawn
Unfurl across the sky
A spider web shone with diamond threads
On a sequined bush nearby.
A glittering tear was suspended there,
I squinted a wishful eye,
To catch a glimpse of a Fairy King
As he kissed his Queen good-bye.
Or perhaps it was a single drop
Of dragon's breath I spied
As the woods resounded loudly
With a raven's echoing cry.
I held a misty breath in close
And crept down where shadows lie
But the garden was emptied of magic
As sunworks burst in the sky.
***
I worked that day as I always do
(though some days harder than others)
Until at last the night drew in
And I snuggled beneath my covers
My book fell soft, I must have dreamed
For I walked in a band of brothers:
***
They were hooded and cloaked and a quiet hiss
Was all the sound they made
I could almost smell their desperate fear
In the whispering plans they laid.
Their brother was captive! held fast in chains
And though he was proud and brave
Before the distant morning came
He'd lie cold in the Spider King's grave.
An urgent voice broke through the night
Nor hushed as the leader bade.
"He's my brother, my friend, it is my right
To offer my life in trade!"
A rose spur gripped in a shaking hand
Was torn from a stalk overhead
The daggered point was poison-tipped
From a mushroom's dusky bed.
His brother's reluctance was overcome
Though many shivered with dread
And the tiny Elf Prince went on alone
Though his doom was waiting ahead.
***
I woke in the dark, and hurried out
I couldn't have answered why
My dreams were full of an Elven Prince
And dawn was drawing nigh!
Already my visions wisped away
As I flew to the bush by the stream
Frantic I looked for my Elvish Prince
And was drawn by a gleam of green.
A moth was caught in the sticky web
I'd admired in yesterdays dew
But tonight it was only a ghostly trap
Its victim hanging askew.
The luna moth laid quietly
Among the skeletal crew
And I crouched beside the helpless thing
Knowing it wrong to do.
(For the ugly must eat too.)
As gently as the thistledown,
My fingers traced the rings
Of silk that bound him to his death
And graced the backs of kings.
I snapped the threads that held him there
Easy enough for a being
As huge and clumsy as all the world
We're used to usually seeing.
His eyes were bright as tiny stars
And palely glittering
And what I took for a hooded cloak
Was a deftly swaddled wing.
I wielded a needle with all my skill
As I carefully loosened the strings
Til he clasped my hand and and stretched out full
His wildly fluttering wings.
He covered my palm and each graceful part
Was of purest, palest, green
The violet tatoo on his moon cold back
Was a memory of runes unseen.
My hands were shining with fairy dust
As I stripped the cobwebs bare
I raised my arm in a trembling salute
And launched him into the air
Though this dark held nothing of magic
I couldn't help but stare
My heart beat hard with a foolish hope
That my prince would be standing there.
But the memory of magic I'd conjured
I swallowed along with my pride.
Thank heaven that magic's for children--
I am dumpy and old for a bride.
As I slid back into my waiting bed
I was grateful enough it would seem
With the ordinary-garden-variety magic
That woke me to rescue a dream.
That's Tomalina and me in the hammock, probably working hard on a poem.
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