Mulched beds are a sign of this Gardeners autumnal toil,
Protecting plants that are dormant beneath the soil.
A familiar glimpse of foliage pokes through here and there,
New growth, a glistening red stretching up, reaching for air.
Hydrangea, peonies, daffodils and crocus,
Spring bulbs awaken and this Gardener cannot focus.
Oh how I adore my garden…
Overwintered plants in pots not yet planted,
Foliage bronzed by wind and branches not broken, just slanted.
Carefully I remove lingering leaves that have drifted,
Savoring the beauty of the winter garden, so generously gifted.
Oh how I adore my garden…
Some fragrant, all beautiful with an abundance of bloom,
Eager to grow more plants, filling each garden room.
Oh how I adore my garden…
Discovering new plants needing shade to sun,
Off to the garden center I run.
Oh how I adore my garden…
By autumn most sensible gardeners are tired and done,
Not me ! A new season of beauty has just begun.
Gathering and creating compost from freshly fallen leaves,
Laying a light covering while on my hands and knees.
Oh how I adore my garden…
My perfectly imperfect garden matures along with me,
As we dance the gardeners dance, kneeling and stooping happily.
Oh how I adore my garden, as my garden represents me!
From the Garden In My Mind,
Teri, Cottage In The Court
by 
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