Promise

This poem describes a garden I just visited in November in Florida. Fall is one of two extremely prolific growing seasons in Florida, the other being Spring. Each holds its own delights. Hope you enjoy this tapestry. Thanks for coming by to read!

Globular yellow fruit,

Pendant and raw,

Puddles of passionfruit

Drip down my jaw.

Mounting the camphor tree,

Smothering vine,

Christmas balls drop to me.

Nobody minds.

Petting the tender shoots,

Poppies and stock;

Caressing ranunculus,

Ready to pot;

Housed in a ripple-roofed

Hut with no walls,

Transparent sunshine

Envelopes us all.

Collards and bok choy

And brocolli galore;

Up come the radishes,

Ripe, by the score;

Out go the marigolds.

Pumpkins go splat.

After this summer,

We’ve no time for that.

Now is the season

When salads are tossed;

Now, all the greens gather,

Ready for frost;

Now, all the bulbs will go

Slumber, and wisps

Of flowers-to-be

Will cause lovers to kiss,

Come Valentine’s Day,

When, full-bloom, with a ring,

Couples promise to wed

In the garden, in spring.

Copyright 2021 Andrea LeDew

For two short-shorts related to gardens read Let’s Talk Turkey and Deadly SIns.