by Anonymous One fine October morning In September, last July The sun lay thick upon the ground The snow shone in the sky The flowers were singing gaily The birds were full in bloom So I went down to the cellar To clean the upstairs room — Anonymous As featured onThe Daily Gardener podcast: Words…

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Red Virginia Creeper

by Charlotte Fiske Bates As dyed in blood, the streaming vines appear, While long and low the wind about them grieves; The heart of autumn must have broken here And poured Its treasure out upon the leaves. As featured onThe Daily Gardener podcast: Words inspired by the garden are the sweetest, most beautiful words of…

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Wiccan Harvest Chant Corn and grain, corn and grain, All that falls shall rise again.     As featured onThe Daily Gardener podcast: Words inspired by the garden are the sweetest, most beautiful words of all.

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by Phebe A. Holder The alder wears its scarlet beads, The clematis its downy seeds, The sumach’s deepening ruby gleams, The birch in hues of topaz beams; In golden bars through leafy doors The sunshine falls on forest floors, While the warm air with balsam breathes A spicy odor from the trees. The softened light,…

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Carl Sandburg

by Carl Sandburg I cried over beautiful things knowing no beautiful thing lasts. The field of cornflower yellow is a scarf at the neck of the copper sunburned woman, the mother of the year, the taker of seeds. The northwest wind comes, and the yellow is torn full of holes, new beautiful things come in…

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October’s Party

by George Cooper October gave a party; The leaves by hundreds came- The Chestnuts, Oaks, and Maples, And leaves of every name. The Sunshine spread a carpet, And everything was grand, Miss Weather led the dancing, Professor Wind, the band.   Note: The American Poet George Cooper remembered for his happy song lyrics, which were…

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Bliss Carman

by Bliss Carman Shall we not grow with the asters? – Never reluctant nor sad, Not counting the cost of being, Living to dare and be glad. Shall we not lift with the crickets A chorus of ready cheer, Braving the frost of oblivion, Quick to be happy here? The deep red cones of the…

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Brown Walnut (Juglans sp.)

by Emily Dickinson The morns are meeker than they were, The nuts are getting brown; The berry’s cheek is plumper, The rose is out of town. The maple wears a gayer scarf, The field a scarlet gown. Lest I should be old-fashioned, I’ll put a trinket on. As featured onThe Daily Gardener podcast: Words inspired…

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by Neltje Blanchan Long after their associates have gone southward, they linger like the last leaves on the tree.   It is indeed “good-bye to summer” when the bluebirds withdraw their touch of brightness from the dreary November landscape at the north to whirl through the southern woods and feed on the waxy berries of the…

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Spring Arbutus

by Neltje Blanchan Can words describe the fragrance of the very breath of spring – that delicious commingling of the perfume of arbutus, the odor of pines, and the snow – soaked soil just warming into life.     Note: Today is the birthday of the nature writer and poet Neltje Blanchan, who was born…

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The Scarlet of Maples

by Bliss Carman The scarlet of maples can shake me like a cry Of bugles going by. And my lonely spirit thrills to see the frosty asters like smoke upon the hills.   As featured onThe Daily Gardener podcast: Words inspired by the garden are the sweetest, most beautiful words of all. Bliss Carman

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The Summer was Very Big

by Rainer Maria Rilke Lord, it is time. The summer was very big. Lay thy shadow on the sundials, and on the meadows let the winds go loose. Command the last fruits that they shall be full; give them another two more southerly days, press them on to fulfillment and drive the last sweetness into…

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Henry Ward Beecher

by Henry Ward Beecher Nature glories in death more than in life. As featured onThe Daily Gardener podcast: Words inspired by the garden are the sweetest, most beautiful words of all. Henry Ward Beecher

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Every Green Thing

by Henry Ward Beecher Every green thing loves to die in bright colors.  As featured onThe Daily Gardener podcast: Words inspired by the garden are the sweetest, most beautiful words of all. Henry Ward Beecher

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