Best Gardener Poems
She is learning young
Pure genteel pleasures of a garden
Amid the fragrant roses and towering lupines
Sweet feminine echo of her beautiful mother
She holds up her watering can
A tiny version of the other.
Now she mimics to perfection
The sprinkling of flowers
As she giggles with delight
At birds in secret bowers.
She can't wait for tomorrow
Her duties to employ
She is mother's little helper
And Daddy's little joy
Categories:
gardener, beauty, bird, daughter, garden,
Form:
Verse
A gardener took many seeds
and planted them with tender care,
but when the beds were choked with weeds,
the planter had no time to spare.
Her life moved at a frantic pace.
Demands of work and home were great.
No flowers ever filled a vase,
for all had met a dismal fate.
***************************
A gardener took many seeds
and planted them while well aware
that precious things have many needs
for nurturance and tender care.
Though life was a frenetic race,
she found the time to cultivate.
She joyously filled every vase,
for blooms grew at a pleasing rate.
entered in Mystic Rose's Any Poem You Are Proud of Contest on May 20, 2017
December 24, 2018, entered in Mark Toney's 2019 Poetry Marathon--mile 3
placed 2nd
October, 2016, entered in Brian Strand's Contest 216--Placed 1st
March 1, 2019, entered in Maureen McGreavy's What I Really Like Contest
Date: March 31, 2019
Contest Title: 2019 Poetry Marathon Final Placement Placed 10th
Sponsor: Mark Toney
Categories:
gardener, friendship,
Form:
Quatrain
Viewed from the snow covered mountain
Slopes laden with flower beds like
Colorful vase of flowers
I saw the* Him Kamal flower
I asked, “Why are you all alone?
Beauty is to be adored”
Should give yourself before
Your petals fall to dust”.
Quick came the response from flower
“Am not lonely, enjoy these heights
Shelter of blue umbrella”.
I asked if I crush your petals
The flower said he would be glad
Its fragrance will radiate.
Purpose of life fulfilled
If destroyed not admired.
Nearby look at the snowy streams
Ripples flowing kicking each other
Exhilarating music.
Our life like ever flowing streams
Water running towards ocean
Currents never turning back
Perennial flow of life
Small life merging in big.
The nature is peace all around
She only disturbs who disturbs
She teaches wisdom to those
Praise her beauty, not destroy her.
Develop the aesthetic sense
To feel the nature’s beauty.
Looking into the sky
Searching their gardener.
=========================
Date 10-1-14
Third place win in
Contest: Thank you by P.D.
Eighth place win in:
Contest: Maverick Free verse sponsored by John Freeman
Categories:
gardener, flower, life,
Form:
Free verse
"Horticulture is a groping in the dark
into the obscure and unfamiliar " James Tate,
from his poem, The Definition Of Gardening
________________
There is an art to gardening, yes there is
I like to create a beautiful display
in sundress and gardening gloves
I gather all my tools and seeds
and say, "lets get growing beautiful"
and I start to dig and weed and sweat
"this is hard work and I need a break"
so on the porch I sip lemonade . . . .
the cat is digging holes for me, what!
stop that you fluffy pest
then its back to work for me
and finally I am throwing seeds
all willy-nilly with no idea of what will grow
and then I wait and wait and wait
a big thunder storm one night
oh how horrible the pain of destruction
in the morning I am a babbly fool
"are you safe my little seedlings dears"
thank the gods there is no drowning
shrivelling or withering to be found
you see- I am like their parent
and want them to grow up strong
the days pass and the porch swing creaks
and then one glorious day my dream
is a garden growing in rainbow colors
but their is one slight problem
don't ask me what I planted.
______________________
October 28, 2016
Poetry/Free Verse/The Gardener
Copyright Protected, 16-844-160-0
All Rights Reserved, 2016, Constance La France
For the contest, Give Me Your Best James Tate
sponsor, Space Cadet
Thirteenth Place
Categories:
gardener, garden,
Form:
Free verse
My lotus flower, adrift on the water bed,
Your petals top the pond,
Lilies, Irises, Hyacinths.
The sun reminisces,
And the moon grieves,
For in the dark of night,
It hides your leaves.
I weed your sodden garden,
Cattail, Waterthymes, Reeds.
My lotus you're safe,
I know your needs.
The scabs from the tear,
Haunts your fragile stem,
Faint, pink lines like those of your petals,
Shine like a gem.
My lotus I trace along those lines,
And your hesitance remains,
My lotus, I say,
"I know not the hurricane,
That caused your injury,
Nor the pain of how it felt,
But I know the misery,
And the doubt."
My lotus, I hold your leaves,
"Your weeds grow back,
But I will still stay,
Your stem dries,
And I will water you everyday,"
My lotus, I caress your greenery,
"Your flowers have bloomed,
In the harshest of weather,
But now you know sunlight,
And I'll make sure it's forever."
Categories:
gardener, 8th grade, cute love,
Form:
Rhyme
You stand in front of a garden so vast
You gave a smile that could shame the great sun
You went to the young roses, as you must
You water them with knowledge, like you can
The roses you see almost everyday
You truly do care for them so dearly
You tell them great stories to make their day
And you always do it wholeheartedly
One time you pick a few, we pricked your hand
It hurts so much, so we ask forgiveness
I wish it will not hurt this genuine bond
That will be destroyed by our thorned progess
I want to say a million thanks to whom
Made the beautiful roses greatly bloom
Categories:
gardener, rose, student, teacher, teachers
Form:
Sonnet
Wet skies
Grey dawn
Blankets the coast.
Black rocks
Sea foam
Triggers the most
Atlantic applause,
An encore to those
Just hearty enough
To make a life on The Rock.
And to answer the call,
Between stone cracks,
Moss roots,
And squalls,
A garden was planted
Where nothing
Had grown
Before.
Before...
Before the Gardener came
The coast was a love-lettered painting,
A bouquet to the sun,
Orange, red, and yellow flattery
Through living imitation.
"Seek ye first the kingdom of God,"
Said the sign
On the gate
At the edge of St Johns.
"But I think I've finally found it,"
Said the man
Creeping silent
With his too sharp sheers
Cutting flowers
Uninvited. -
- Everyone's front lawn
A memory
Of what united
Them for two score years.
Bloody hands dropping pedals on his way to the shore,
"Don't worry," said the man,
"I don't want to come back,
With any luck," he said again,
"I think this should be enough."
As he placed in the arrangement
A note that read,
"Je suis
Désolé.
Bitte fragen Sie nicht
Für mehr."
100 years ago, July 1st, 1916, the entire Newfoundland and Labrador regiment was killed at Beaumont-Hamel, during the Battle of the Somme in World War I. Of 780, only 68 reported for roll-call the next day.
After 40 some years of having no military of their own, they had mustered up a unit of volunteers to support the war effort. 90% of them never made it through their first engagement.
Canada Day isn't just about celebrating.
Categories:
gardener, death, garden, memorial day,
Form:
Free verse
Lily, jasmine and roses
Tulips, carnations and daffodils
He adores and chooses
Cosmos, zinnia and daisies
His hands paintbrush of nature
His eyes tasters of beauty
He turns seeds in flower
His caring hands have power
Flowers are his babies
He nurtures and nurses
Liatris, orchids and quinces
Just like Prince and Princes
Springs come to treat him
The clouds stay to greet him
The breeze blows to meet him
None other to compete him
Sight of a withering larkspur
Anguish cuts him deeper
Seeing a lisianthus blowing
A profound delight bestowing
He places the Divine paintings
In splendid frame of garden
To meet the earth’s yearnings
His prolific hands are chosen
A Celestial color sprayer
The job he does is a prayer
Quatrains
Categories:
gardener, inspirational, nature
Form:
Rhyme Royal
My hands are the hands
of a gardener,
fresh with soil, sunlight, and rain,
with the breath of flowers
and kisses of moisture.
I sprinkle seeds over the earth,
like a holy man sprinkles sacred water.
The soil: grateful for my blessing.
The birds: grateful for this small fare.
I chant incantations and listen
for the growth of roots,
for the rustling of sprouts,
pastel green and tender, spiritual
and uplifting.
I rain dance and praise the sky,
hold my hands to the air,
forming a small bowl
for the rain to fill,
to be the stimulus, the birthmother,
the liquid that makes
the garden whole.
I ask the sun for waves
of light, the breeze
for strength and circulation,
the fertilizer for sparkling minerals
that infuse the roots, stems, and fruit
with vitality.
On my knees I dig
with bare hands into the soil:
my hands, like intimate dancers,
lead the busy prolific weeds
to another existence, to their rebirth.
My hands are the hands
of a gardener,
fresh with soil, sunlight, and rain.
——————————————————————
From my fourth book: The Translator
'Transcendent Zero Press', 2015
Search Amazon: "the translator/dah"
This poem was first published in ‘Stone Voices Magazine’
Categories:
gardener, addiction, butterfly, celebration, dedication,
Form:
Free verse
Kneeling in prayer, I ask God for wisdom today;
Can you hear me God in your sanctuary way up high?
Yes, God knows my soul for he is my true pathway;
And I hear God's silent words falling from the sky.
As graceful angels sing me a sweet lullaby;
Oh God, I am darkness with feet stuck in clay.
Be still child, I will send the gentle gardener is his sigh;
Kneeling in prayer I ask God for wisdom today.
Then, mother comes to me on the wings of a blue jay;
Oh, no more capable messenger was my thankful cry.
For she was truly a gentle soul always blissful and gay;
Can you hear me God in your sanctuary way up high?
Mom planted a garden for the bird, bee and butterfly;
her flowers were wild, tangled and often went astray.
I was her assistant till the day we had to say bye;
Yes, God knows my soul for he is my true pathway.
Mom has wisdom boundless and I confide just like yesterday;
She has patience and listens till I feel that I have wings to fly.
Tells me, I have potential and will bloom like a flower in a sun ray;
And I hear God's silent words falling from the sky.
I am at peace in my soul now but I must ask God why, why?
Why is her wild tangled garden at our old house in decay?
Why did my young gentle gardener mother need to die?
Mom, remember how in lush meadows talking, we would lay.
Kneeling in prayer, I ask . . .
_____________________
June 13, 2022
Poetry/Rondeau Redouble/The Gentle Gardener
Copyright Protected, ID 06-1464-476-13
All Rights Reserved, 2022, Constance La France
Written for the Premier contest, Rondeau Redouble
sponsor, L Milton Hankins, Judged 07/05/2022
Sixth Place
Categories:
gardener, courage, garden, inspiration, love,
Form:
Rondeau Redouble
His seeds
Grew weeds
6th Place in A FOOTLE RETROSPECTIVE
Categories:
gardener, funny, nature,
Form:
Footle
The Gardener and the Rabbit
I came across a rabbit, in my garden neat
He calls into my garden, and finds my grass a treat.
I watched for several hours, he seemed so soft and cute
Then he ate up all my flowers and made contact with my boot.
Next day he came a calling and on my grass did chew
“Now should I go and shoot him and pop him in a stew”?
But then I had the idea, to kill him with my knife
But when I went to get it, he introduced his wife.
Confused, I sat a thinking of all the if’s and maybe’s
But if that was not enough, his wife gave birth to babies.
I invited them to move in, my garden now a bog
To add insult to my injury, they brought along their frog!
Categories:
gardener, animals, funnygarden, , cute,
Form:
Rhyme
Landing on petals,
Buzzing through fragrant stamens:
Pollination chores.
Categories:
gardener, nature
Form:
Haiku
Immersed in his thoughts -
how to give it a shape - dreams,
Bonsai gardener ;
If I could place a banyan
over my heart - to take rest
(C) Anindya Mohan Tagore (Bobby)
Categories:
gardener, desire, love, nature,
Form:
Tanka
How could such a great man, want to shake my hand? Treat me like an equal respect felt both ways my entire career there all of my days. Could it be because he got his hands dirty, like me? The ideas of all his employees gathered like a gardener preparing the soil in his butterfly garden. Then planting those certain seeds, treating them with loving care, ensuring they would bloom into brilliant and vibrant flowers as nature intended. Sure to attract the most Beautiful and most valuable species of butterflies, traveling from near and far to ensure the beauty and longevity of his beloved garden.
Categories:
gardener, blessing,
Form:
Free verse