Autumn, the season of mellow mist
takes over the reins of summer,
washing August dust with September rains,
revealing a palette no other seasons match.
Leaves on trees riot from green to rich rusty hues,
Colour creeps into the garden once more.
Pink rose and blue clematis peek over walls at
the carpet of sedum, cyclamen, violets and pansies
with varied shades of red, white and blues.
In the garden of Wonderland, Alice’s gardeners
are busy painting the pretty peonies, poinsettias,
carnations and Hemerocallis Daylily Autumn Red.
Multicoloured hollyhocks, carnations and cosmos dance
with dahlias and weigelas with the melodious wind.
Red hot pokers, gladioli, and digitalis point
brightly manicured fingers at the celebration of
Chinese lanterns; whilst flowering forsythias and
moon-faced sun flowers look on with yellowed envy.
The garden is a riotous rhapsody of colour.
Thus, nature celebrates the season with buddleias
and feathery asters inviting bees and butterflies
with a feeling that warm days will never cease.
Until November creeps in and the disheartened flowers,
stripped of petals, wilt and shiver into winter’s lap.
The old gardener waits
For little angels
To play joyfully
In his garden.
The garden he made for them,
To see their faces brighten
And their hearts filled with joy.
Be kind to him,
Treat his heart with care,
For as time moves on
You may one day be
A gardener like him.
Out of my window
I see a robin,
Proud red breasted bird,
He's in my garden
Hopping and chirping,
No care in the world.
I planted a variety of lilies in the front yard
For you, my dear friend
I utilized the skill of my right hand
To plant peppermint and lemongrass in the backyard
So we might sit there to sip our tea
Next year, when we will be a little older.
Dear friend, I will plant rows of flowers
Plants and trees that we shall enjoy for many years
We will spend many afternoons watching the roosters
Pass by as if heading to a gala under the shining stars
While drinking wines or sipping our tea
As we savor the fresh air and the beauty of Mother Nature.
It is marvelous to enjoy calmly the current time
While looking forward to the future
In the front and the backyard, where green pasture
Radiates life and celebrates our primetime.
As we grow a little older
We will continue to live it up, while sipping our tea.
Today is your birthday; you have grown older
Let us dream and look toward the future
In the front yard
And in the backyard
In the Garden of Eden
In our natural Heaven.
Copyright © September 2026 Hébert Logerie. All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several poetry collections.
Those who live in glass houses
~ ought not plant rock gardens
soft glowing moonlight
white blossoms amid sweet scents
moon garden wakens
Bubble sucking lungs
Dual life wet wigglers
Teapot hiding spot ?
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦ the birds ¦¦¦¦¦ in ¦¦¦ the garden ¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ heard the ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ voice of Eve
¦¦¦ added to their own an oversound,
Her ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ meaning ¦¦¦ without the words.
¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ an eloquence so soft
¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ had an influence on birds
¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ she was in their song.
¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ her voice upon their voices crossed
¦¦¦ now persisted in the woods so long
¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
Never again would birds' song be the same.
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
(Blackout of Never Again Would Birds Song Be The Same by Robert Frost)
When there’ll be no Facebook, darling
And no Google Photos too
Could we plant another garden
Under skies of acid blue?
They might regulate the clouds
Teach the sun how it should shine
And no rain would fall without
The permission of AI
But one thing they can’t rehash
Is the loving fun we spent
Saved by laughs, it’s in our ash
Scattered over sea and sand..
bud
blossom
bumblebee
pollination
monarch butterflies
Queen Anne’s lace and bluebells
dragonflies and damselflies
a gorgeous flower garden
zinnias baby’s breath and tulips
marigolds, crepe myrtle and tea roses
On Christmas Eve, we rushed to bed,
talking of a picnic on the front lawn
and cooling in the sprinkler.
As we drifted off, we dreamed
of mysterious presents on our beds.
I woke as the sun began to rise—
the room was cool;
an eerie glow spilled past
my windowpane.
Outside, the world was upside down:
a white scene lay where green should be.
My squeal woke my whole family.
We ran outside to build a snowman.
As the sun climbed higher,
his carrot nose slid to the ground.
For a little while, we saw
what lived on Christmas cards.
When the soul enters
The blood bought, purchased land
Thorns, thistles, and snakes
Are present in what it can't understand
The master gardener
Sends Grace to endure
Walking alongside the soul
As hands work out the cure
Others begin to gather
Some to hinder, some to aid
Grace helps the soul
Hang and lock the gate
The gate is grown in the Garden
Where boundaries forge desire
The Spirit of LOVE is explored
As WORD applies the fire
This is no ordinary structure
Made by human hands
Grace grows all the structures
Until the soul is mature enough to expand
...territory
Written by Trudy Schrader on 09-21-2026
Monica walks where amber
branches bend,
And autumn paints the world
from end to end.
The maples dress in rust and
burning gold,
While scarlet stories of the year
unfold.
A copper breeze drifts softly
through the air,
And scatters amber ribbons in
her hair.
She breathes the crisp and
quiet morning chill,
As purple shadows lengthen
down the hill.
With every step on pathways
dry and bright,
The dying leaves reflect a
golden light.
One inch at a time at her very slow pace,
I could not spy her fuzzy face.
Orange and black she crawled along.
To the Tiger Moth family she’d soon belong.
Enjoying dandelions and miniature clover, she seemed to be scolding my toe to move over. "I can predict how winter will be,” she whispered softly and gently to me, then hibernate like a squirrel in a tree” "One inch at a time, at my very slow pace, I can never join in any race, I always move at a very slow pace" repeated the woolly caterpillar with poise and grace.
“Now sweet dreams” she professed, “I rest my case”
Midst, whilst fully conscious
Life's golden dream
They are, for men, women
What's of Heaven
A part. Inhabitors.
Its bright-lit face.
Our neighbours; yours and mine!
In the sunshine!
Garden Categories
Definition | What is Garden in Poetry?
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.
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bed, field, nursery, terrace, patio, greenhouse, plot, conservatory, patch, oasis, enclosure, back yard, hothouse, cold frame,