For the weekend, I’m posting a couple of poems in honor of gardens and gardeners.
“Oregano will take over;
keep it in a pot,” whispered the insidious Mint.
“Sage advice,” agreed Rosemary, “though you’re one to talk.”
Basil threw in his two cents, “Parsley is very popular, and not in a hurry to seed off like
his cousin Cilantro.”
The gardener shook her head,
the wind in the herbs playing tricks
on her old ears.
“Too much Thyme on her hands,” someone snickered.
I putter around the yard
between the carrots and the peas
talking to the animals
accusing the chickens
of being bored
and chastising the cat
for wanting to go back inside.
“Like children these days,” I scold.
And who are you, reader,
to say any different?
And finally. . .
Haiku for Spring
I sit. I wait for
the sun. Seeds planted in hope
summer’s bounty yield.
Maybe later I’ll add a photo of those whispering herbs. In other news, three things: (1) Local bookstore, Escape Fiction, is now carrying Seed Savers:Treasure, (2) I will have a table at the Salem Public Library author fair on June 23, (3) read this great review for Seed Savers here.