My Garden is a Pleasant Place

Today I was lucky enough to spend the entire day planting all my little seedlings I had grown through out march and April. I had some help from Jim Lough… thank goodness as I really have no idea what I am doing… just that I like playing in dirt!

When I settled down last night I was looking through one of my poetry books and the first page I randomly turned to was a poem by Louise Driscoll called "My Garden is a Pleasant Place". Here it is for your reading pleasure and perhaps some inspiration for art!

My Garden is a pleasant place

Of sun glory and leaf grace.

There is an ancient cherry tree

Where yellow warblers sing to me,

And an old grape arbor, where

A robin builds her nest, and there

Above the lima beans and peas

She croons her little melodies,

Her blue eggs hidden in the green

Fastness of that leafy screen.

Here are striped zinnias that bees

Fly far to visit; and sweet peas,

Like little butterflies newborn,

And over by the tasseled corn

Are sunflowers and hollyhocks,

And pink and yellow four-clocks.

Here are hummingbirds that come

To seek the tall delphinium —

Songless bird and scentless flower

Communing in a golden hour.

There is no blue like the blue cup

The tall delphinium holds up,

Not sky, nor distant hill, nor sea,

Sapphire, nor lapis lazuli.

My lilac trees are old and tall;

I cannot reach their bloom at all.

They send their perfume over trees

And roofs and streets, to find the bees.

I wish some power would touch my ear

With magic touch, and make me hear

What all the blossoms say, and so

I might know what the winged things know.

I'd hear the sunflower's mellow pipe,

"Goldfinch, goldfinch, my seeds are ripe!"

I'd hear the pale wistaria sing,

"Moon moth, moon moth, I'm blossoming!"

I'd hear the evening primrose cry,

"Oh, firefly! come, firefly!"

And I would learn the leweled word

The ruhy-throated hummingbird

Drops into cups of larkspur blue,

And I would sing them all for you!

My garden is a pleasant place

Of moon glory and wind grace.

O friend, wherever you may be,

Will you not come to visit me?

Over fields and streams and hills,

I'll pipe like yellow daffodils,

And every little wind that blows

Shall take my message as it goes.

A heart may travel very far

To come where its desires are,

Oh, may some power touch my ear,

And grant me grace, and make you hear!

Community Garden "Chives" will be my first harest for the farmers market

We are so lucky to have pigmy goats, a miniture horse and lots of chickes to keep us company while gardening!