Herrick Celebrates His Garden-With Some Regret Poem by Glenn Bagshaw

On gloried mornings I behold
how Phillis thrives as marigold.

Corinna in her gracious way
became the dais-ed fame of May.

Full- blossomed Julia, sans her clothes,
now flames flushed warmth in blush of rose.

Irene is iris, hand-picked choice,
her soil would sing, could dust have voice.

The garden prospers every year:
another lady's mulched career.

Each woman's winter withers days
but Spring in flourish will amaze.

Yes blooms spill dyes in thrilling shades-
yet they remain, at root, my maids!