ABC Wednesday: The Vagaries of Winter

Note to Garden Bloggers visiting today: My Bloom Day post can be found by scrolling below this one. But I do hope you'll take a moment to read my silly little poem here, since it describes the way my garden looks in December.


One of the things I've come to enjoy about ABC Wednesdays is the chance to meet some other bloggers around the world who I probably wouldn't encounter from reading primarily garden blogs. Each Wednesday I visit a few familiar "faces" from this group, but I usually meet a few new people each week as well. One of the more familiar bloggers in this group, Brenda at Rinkly Rimes, commented on my post last week that my photo of "frozen fennel" suggested a poem to her. Those of you who read Rinkly Rimes' posts know that Brenda is a poet extraordinaire with clever verses on a wide variety of topics. If she does write a poem about frozen fennel, I would be very honored. But in the meantime, she inspired me with the idea for today's V post . . . a little light Verse about my garden:

December 2008

My Garden in Winter

Winter winds have swept the prairie
Cold, ice, and snow have left their mark.
The garden is still—
Zero Zinnias and No Nasturtiums
To brighten each day.
Only Frozen Fennel
and Dill Dusted with snow,
Alongside Pummeled Phlox,
Icy Iris, and Arctic Asters.

Crumpled Coleus and Prone Pansies
Sit by the door.
Dormant Daffodils and Daylilies
wait for warmer weather
Along with
the Tulips under the Tundra.
Slumbering Salvia stand next to
Snowy Sedum and Congealed Coneflowers.

Rain turns to ice, creating Sleety Susans
And Glacial Gaillardias.
In the shade garden
Hyperborean Hellebores shiver
Next to Hibernating Heucheras,
Hostas, and Hydrangeas,
all on Hold till the end of the season.
Frigid Ferns, Polar Primrose, and Bleak Brunnera
Hide under a light coverlet of leaves.

Quivering Quince and Cowering Clematis
Suffer the onslaught.
Lilacs and Lavender Languish
while the Roses Rest
Under a blanket of white.
Verbena and “Victoria Blues” bear the Vicissitudes
Of Winter’s wrath.

My garden sleeps—
dreaming of spring.

Editor's Full Disclosure--Please note the photo above was taken a year ago. I've taken some poetic license in the poem as well, because we haven't had any snow other than a few flurries. But I know that the snow will come eventually--probably with a vengeance--and a brown, muddy garden just doesn't sound very poetic, does it?

Thanks to Mrs. Nesbitt for hosting us once again; for other varied V posts, check out the ABC Blog.