Heart’s Ease

Viola, generous and humble,
I could harvest your sweet-smelling blooms forever
And never run out.

Heart’s-ease, violet, pansy, Johnny jump-up,
Your names are as innumerable as your gifts.
Spoonfuls of syrup strengthen our hearts, nourish our blood,
And quiet our coughs
Through every season.

You generously provide a colorful show,
And then your true flowers,
Pale green and hidden beneath heart-shaped leaves,
Do their work to guard your future.

In the garden I wait beside a shaded corner
As the morning dew disappears into a shaft of sunlight,
Grateful for one more day with you,
Purple, white, blue and pink
Protectors of our hearts.

(c) Judith C Evans 2019

Shamelessly Growing Sideways

Beside the ancient, sprawling honeysuckle bush,
A young apple tree leans in
And fights for her share of the sun.
Of all the trees in our backyard orchard,
She is voted least likely to succeed.

Her trunk nearly parallel to the ground,
She strains toward the sun.
Branches that should spread from side to side
Instead soar skyward.

We fret about this state of affairs.

What a shame, we sigh,
As we consider corrective measures
To help her grow properly.
Stakes and twine are put in order.
Websites are consulted.
We trim the honeysuckle branches to no avail.

Maybe best to cut down the twisted tree
To make way for a better fit?

Nevertheless, her trunk presses sideways,
Tearing up well-meaning stakes,
Sending boughs skyward, shrugging off our dismay.

Months later, the little tree puts our concerns to rest.

After shamelessly growing sideways,
Chasing her beloved sun,
This misshapen lady,
With horizontal trunk and vertical branches,
Bears more fruit than all the others combined.

(c) Judith C Evans 2019


Shared with Poetry Pantry #439 at Poets United

A Summer Well Spent

The potted thyme,
After a summer well spent,
Sleeps through fall and winter holidays.
Its tired leaves turn half golden,
A quarter bronze,
And the rest crisp brown.

I trim the stems in mid-winter
And can’t help but notice
A supple green leaf
Looking lost and perplexed.

I glance at the rosemary,
Evergreen yet dormant,
And back again at the thyme.
I see spring,
With aromatic oils that heal and refresh,
Within view yet just out of reach,
Drawing us ever forward.