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The sound of an early evening breeze,
pushing and pulling branches and leaves.
Is an eerie sound; it will not appease
until the rattle of tree limbs are at ease.

I feel tree roots
beneath my toes,
as I stumble on those,
trying not to fall,
for if I do,
it will be hard
to get up,
for me not for you.

The bloom of the Rose
is gone, not here any more.
No more the color,
only the dryness; the remains
of what was a beautiful,
example in this garden, ours.

The wind gusts against tree and limb,
rattling the leaves; creating a din.
Small, dead branches fall without sound,
amongst the Maple leaves covering the ground.
Break out the rakes, for a short while.
Start raking those leaves into a pile.
Pick up all leaves, at the scene,
to get a jump on this Fall scene.

If a Rose is a Rose,
what do you suppose,
is the plant by my toes?
It was pretty, once
and went away.
The foliage, not much.
Just want to say,
will it grow anew?
This I will pray
it will come again
on a new Spring day.

The wandering flower,
a marauding vine,
may produce soon
a very tasty wine.
Nothing like a
cluster of grape,
to have eyes see
with my mouth agape.

Out of our window,
I see the street is wet.
A passing shower,
Is OK with me
For it brings water
To keep the earth moist,
While keeping our water bill,
Much lower, of course.
The fresh smell of air,
Cleansed, for a while
Is a relief for this
Tired man, who now smiles.

A garden child, I am,
as I sit here,
amongst the green
a most pretty scene.

He stays hidden, in the plants.
I will find him waiting there
with his patience; he has plenty.
He waits there, he won't roam,
for he is a most faithful
the silent garden gnome

I am uncertain
as to what's going on,
for part of my Dahlias,
lie broken on the ground.
A dog or raccoon
or something quite big,
has walked through my garden,
like a clumsy, old pig,
with Salvia branches,
broken pieces and twigs.

Oh such a sight.
A feast for our eyes,
When the flowers are abloom,
In the Spring surprise.
The Daffodils and Tulips,
Have all gone away.
Other foliage has turned
To a brown looking mess.
Perennials, jump into play
And continue to brighten,
This dreary Spring day.

The early sunlight,
wafts through the leaves
of the large Maple tree.
The Wind is blowing,
that is clear to me
as the Garden Spinners
spin merrily.
A rabbit comes by
for an early morning snack.
"Leave my flowers alone,"
I now say to he,
for when you eat them,
there'll be no flowers to see.