Winter Garden Poem by Tom Billsborough
Winter Garden
In myDecember garden
Sunsetbriefly blossoms
Theblood-red rose remains
alone to dominate
The largely comatose,
except inone far corner
Beyond my present view
where violas still
Are sneakily at play
Like children who pretend
A casual deafness
When the bell to lessons sounds.
More numerous now
Than in September sunlight
Their purple-yellow haze surrounds
The Snapdragon and the Dahlias
Which lorded over them
With more spectacular colours
Throughout the Summer,
But blackened now
By Autumn's dank infusions.
are still out on Xmas day. The Violas stay even longer.
This is a classic Tom Only an experienced gardener could write such a gem. I have been waiting for your return to the poet workshop and am very pleased at this effort thank you
Hi Wes, Than.ks I've been busy editing for Annette & others so I need to catch up on your poems and others. Sorry about that. We are lucky on the West Coast here as we get few frosts. Something to do with the Gulf Stream. There are still more Violas than I can count!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/6/2024 7:00:46 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Beautiful images Tom! My December garden has no color; only a soft layer of fall leaves, some nuts pocketed away by squirrels, and the dry stalks of chives that I kept for as long as possible. I love the vivid colors and the way you engage the senses into your poem.
If I keep dead-heading the violas they may last until the aconite and snowdrops take over. The roses stay still the first severe frosts. There was only one occasion last year when I had to scrape my car wind screen so I, m keeping my fingers crossed. Thanks for your comments.