Subscribe Now to the Digital Almanac Monthly Magazine!


No replies
Joined: 2009-11-02

The Garden Path

Meandering from the screened-porch door
And through a grove of trees
The garden path calls out to all
The child, the birds, the bees.

Its stones are aged, and flocked with moss
And fragrant creeping thyme;
They’ve guided many footsteps through
The flowering vines that climb

‘Midst Holly, Hawthorne, Alder bush,
Lush lavender and fern
To find a secret cubicle
And pass the time and yearn

For slower times and longer days
To stop and smell the blooms,
That now profusely grace the limbs
Of Nana’s Spanish brooms.

The winding path now takes a turn
There is a splash, a pause;
The koi have sensed a presence there;
Their mouths reach up like straws

To take a morsel thrown their way.
Swimming to and fro
‘Neath lemon balm and Columbine
Where water lilies grow.

Hastening now as daylight wanes
The path ascends a hill;
Curving gently left, then right
The earth is cool and still;

While scented Stock and Campion
Unfurl their dusk display
The path leads back to whence it came
Until another day.

-Dianne Capell
April 10, 2010

Post new comment

Before posting, please review all comments. Due to the volume of questions, Almanac editors can respond only occasionally, as time allows. We also welcome tips from our wonderful Almanac community!

The content of this field is kept private and will not be shown publicly.
By submitting this form, you accept the Mollom privacy policy.

2015 Special Edition Garden GuideCooking Fresh with The Old Farmer's AlmanacThe Almanac Monthly Digital MagazineWhat the heck is a Garden Hod?