GRANDMA'S GARDEN

Here is the garden, flowers all in a row,
Iris and peonies and snapdragons grow.
Roses of red, violets of blue,
Each year in spring, flowers anew,
Seeds from the fall bringing sprouts
in the spring. Out of the earth,
grow thin shoots of green.

Lilacs and lavender, dresses so fine,
Honeysuckle blossoms cling to the vine,
Lilies, delphiniums, poppies bright red,
All find their home in the flower bed.

Buttercups, daisies and bluebells so quaint,
Foxgloves of pink and indian paint.
Flowering almond and baby’s breath white,
To beckon the fairies that visit at night.

Bees drinking nectar, as sweet as honey,
Early morning brings a visit from Bunny.
Ants on the peonies, working hard,
Big black crow cawing out in the yard.

Marigolds dressed in golden veils,
Little boy playing with shovel and pail.
Into the garden he goes to explore,
Under a rock he find sow bugs galore.

Puts down his shovel and picks up a rake,
Slithering past goes a garter snake.
Spider webs shining in afternoon sun, just one.

Spider comes skittering out of its web,
Looking for dinner - it wants to be fed.
Stops to examine the shell of a snail,
Here comes his puppy, its wagging its tail.

Giggles of laughter ring through the air,
Puppy’s tongue licks at his golden hair.
Moonrays so fine with flowers of white,
Fragrance so heavenly, source of delight

A boy and his dog having barrels of fun,
Into the yard they go on the run.
Pail and shovel are left behind,
There in the garden for Grandma to find.

Sun going down, way out to the west,
This is the time the moonrays love best.
Open their petals of glimmering white,
Fragrance so lovely drifts into the night.

Fireflies dancing with flickering light,
Enjoying the cool breeze of mid-summer night.
Moth glides by softly, alive on the breeze,
All this from the window the little boy sees.

He’s watching with awe for fairies first flight,
Over the garden in dresses of white.
Oh wouldn’t that be a wondrous sight
To see in the garden this cool summer night.

"Oh Grandma, come quick!
Hurry please, come and see,"
She picks up the boy and he sits on her knee.
"There they are! There’s the fairies,
they’re flitting about."
"I see," says his Grandma without any doubt.

The boys sits there watching, his face all aglow,
What a magnificent, magical show.
His eyes close in slumber, he drifts off to sleep,
Grandma lays him in bed. He makes not a peep.

Twilight is falling, a cool breeze does blow,
Moon shining down on the garden below.
Quiet descends, all creatures have fled.
Flowers closed tight. The garden’s in bed.

© Mary Alward