Essentials for the Garden Since There Is Little Else We Can Count On
Tomatoes for salsa
Beans for the freezer
Garlic for everything
Roses for the table
Sunflowers to plant with the grandsons
Lilies to bloom on Father’s birthday
Currants to root me to Germany
Poppies to fix my husband’s frown
Lavender’s dew-spangled scent for all of us
Honeyed birdsong looking for love
Breeze’s breath to rake away clouds
Three generations of hands sifting soil
sown with child-smiles bright as marigolds
Little ones squealing with fistfuls of worms
begging kisses to heal bee stings and more
A row of poems, both prickly and plush
longing to be clothed in petrichor’s quiet hymn
Time’s suspension jumpstarted by grill’s sizzle
beckoning sun’s see-you-tomorrow wink
from behind the windbreak
11 thoughts on "Essentials for the Garden Since There Is Little Else We Can Count On"
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love the title and the comfort anchored in this poem.
lol: “Poppies to fix my husband’s frown”
ohhhh, the Ss sing here: “sifting soil
sown with child-smiles bright as marigolds”
There is a pleasing musicality in this poem, and I absolutely love the specificity!
Thank you for sharing this poem!
Love the title.
Love the list
And the turn and ending are wonderland.
Great word placements.
Yes, Nancy, yes!! Fill my weary brain with gardening delights! In love with each line!
“Garlic for everything” and “A row of poems” and “petrichor’s quiet hymn” Yes yes yes.
thanks for your recipe of essentials
Positively wonderful. I love the list and the final touch in the last four lines.
This brings to mind the Victorian Language of Flowers. 💓🌻🌹
Great work.
So much to love here, Nancy. What an exhilarating list. My favorite part was:
“Three generations of hands sifting soil
sown with child-smiles bright as marigolds
Little ones squealing with fistfuls of worms”
You have to feel good about that.
I LOVE this line!
A row of poems, both prickly and plush
Lovely list poem. All the things and how they make you feel.
What a great list poem! Each item is wonderful, but my favorite is
A row of poems, both prickly and plush
longing to be clothed in petrichor’s quiet hymn
Nicely done!