Poem 1 APRIL
As I came through the park this morning
The shrubs were all in bloom.
The forsythia was showing yellow,
And helped to dispel the gloom.
A bush of fragrant lilac
With each tip a purple plume
Watched o'er two robin red breasts
Who looked like a bride and groom.
It was a cloudy, cold spring day,
With march still in the air,
But April with her loving touch
Had used her colors rare;
And had painted every tree and shrub
In colors bright and gay,
To make you forget the weather
And to cheer you on your way.
Now my little daughter
May April be your guide
As April is your birth-month
the month for groom and bride.
May you always be kind and loving,
And look on the inner side
Of the cloud for the silver lining,
And may spring with you abide.
---Mary Mozelle Saunders Zile
Poem 2 A November Day
We have been busy this morning
Putting our garden to bed,
We worked while others lamented
That things in their gardens were dead.
We lifted the "glads" and the cannas,
The tube-rose and dahlias so rare;
We put them to sleep in their baskets
And gave them our tenderest care.
The crocus, narcissus and tulips
Were put in their beds in the ground;
We covered them over with blankets
Of soil, so rich and so brown.
We gathered the seeds from the annuals
And labeled and stored them away;
Their parents, we laid on the bonfire,
They had finished their work for the day.
The lilies, the shastas and iris,
Were tidied and tucked into bed;
The shrubs and the roses so fragrant,
How dare people say they were dead.
We raked up the dead leaves and burned them,
Their ashes were mingled with dust,
We had seen the cycle completed
And felt we had kept our trust.
So now our dear garden lies dreaming
Of hearing the bluebirds sing,
When it will start repaying with blossoms
Our labor of love,in the Spring.
--Mary Mozelle Saunders Zile
Poem 3 My Winter Garden
I love my summer garden
With its flowers of every hue
Where I go each morning
And pick a bowl or two
Where the tall and stately roses
And the larkspur spikes of blue
Proptect the pansy faces
That keep smiling up at you
And I was tired of winter
The day seemed dull and long
I kept dreaming of my garden
With its flowers, birds and song
But when I arose this morning
The fairies had been there
And they had changed my garden
Into a jewel rare
Jack Frost's elves had helped them
With their love and freakish pranks
And as I looked the sunbeams
Came to join the ranks
Every twig and blade of grass
Every shrub and vine
was clad in pure and glistening white
It was a scene sublime
The sturdy little spruce trees
Were standing in the snow
Their needles turned to fleecy down
Their branches bending low
A cardinal with a coat of flaxen
Had paused upon his flight
And seemed conscious of his beauty
In that fairy land of white
I bowed my head in reverence
Could this lovely spot be mine?
Nature had planned my garden
And I worshipped at her shrine.
-- Mary Moselle Saunders Zile
NOTE: Mary's yard in Arlington, VA was filled with flower beds and two arbors covered with roses. She had a Dr. VanFleet climbing rose far up the chimney on a flat trellis. She and a sister, Estelle Yoakley, worked at the Old Post Office in Washington, D.C. handling V-mail for our troops during WW II.
by the writer
A walk in the wood
Through autumn's dry leaves
No matter how lovely,
Oft prompts me to sneeze.
Leaf mold, I am told,
Is the cause of your ills;
Just stay right inside
And take all these pills.
I wandered in spring
Midst jonquils and tulips,
Through broad weedy pastures
Where grew lovely cowslips.
A twitch of the nose
Cause me to suppose
That I gravely had erred
And once more must doze
In bed medicated,
Till strength is regained
And my temperature shake.
I stayed all inside,
Never venturing out,
When my sinuses caused
My voice to phase out.
In silence I drove
For to test my condition:
Dust mites is the reason
You have this affliction.
M hope of reprieve,
A respite thereof,
Will be pure, fresh, air
In His Heaven above.
--David Prentiss Shreve 1977