Garden Musings

Come one, come all, to the 'Prairie Moon' Ball! White and cream petals closed at each morning, Exposed golden stamens are shining ea...

Creatures creep in my garden fair, They sneak and crawl, go here and there. They run, they jump, they eat, they fight, They wander there mos...

Occasionally, we turn a corner of life, and there, there it is, genial and gracious as if it were always there waiting for us.  Soul-thirsty...

Froggy jumps and Froggy crawls, the Gardener has disturbed it. Sluggish blood moves icy limbs, New Spring has come to stir it. Turtle t...

The garden waits, entombed in ice. Life suspended, frozen time. Stiff and brittle, brown and silent. Bowing low to winter's will. B...

When, oh Lord, did the first rose bloom? Bright and shining 'neath a cloudy sky? Stolen sunrays captured live, Emerald green brushed ...

'Bettie Mae Ferris' After making fun of Mrs. ProfessorRoush's tastes in daylilies in the last post (as previously noted, she...

Woeful, she waits. Outside, her love, ceaselessly puttering. A glimpse she sees, then gone again, A wisp, a phantom, endlessly muttering....

I escaped this week from the howling winds, Fleeing from the tempest in the Northern Plains. I couldn't bide the bluster of a Polar pl...

Peas and dirt and worms, oh my Tendrils climbing to the sky. Peas and dirt and worms, my word, Winter's gone and Spring's occurre...

When finally melts incessant snow, When arctic winds no longer blow, When I've succumbed to Winter's woe, I'm rescued by swee...

Rosa 'Belinda's Dream' When the writer's muse grows silent, When dams bar long the stream of words, the wisp of though...

There's a red spot on my tushy, itching like the very devil, There's another on my hiney, now I'm scratching with my shovel. I...

In my garden, working there, I came across a spry young Hare. It didn't run, it knew no fear, It's known the gardener all this ye...

On upcurved wing, I scoured the wind, So high above the earth midst stars. Deep blue hues from clearest sky, Stolen, carried back to ...

Deep in ground where Cold Ones dwell, The garden goes to rest, so weary Green Life dormant, tranced by spell Of glacial Winter, damp an...

Twas the end times of summer and all through the beds, Was a sighing of hope that the Dog Days had fled. The garden was weeded and mulch ...

First October, red and gold,   Spread through forest, cross the fields, The Garden long past summer's heat. Squash rich and heavy, co...

Once upon a noontime dreary, while I staggered hot and weary, ending up my daily chores. I came upon a redbud stout, with dying leaves a...