Posts Tagged ‘Poppies’
Deadly Beauty in the Garden: Katharine S. White on Poisonous Plants
by Katharine S. White The year 1967 started with an all-out alert on the danger of poisonous plants. On January 6th, the Times published a story about a lecture on the subject by John M. Kingsbury, the author of a useful small book titled Deadly Harvest: A Guide to Common Poisonous Plants. At a very…
Read MoreFrancis Ledwidge: The Poet of Blackbirds and Poppies
The Poet of the Blackbirds Today is the anniversary of the death of the Irish war poet and soldier Francis Ledwidge. Francis grew up in the Irish countryside. When he became a writer, he established himself as the “poet of the blackbirds.” Francis was killed in action during World War I at the Battle of…
Read MoreSeeds Beneath a Waxing Moon: Vita Sackville-West’s Poetry of Foresight and Bloom
by Vita Sackville-West When skies are gentle, breezes bland. When loam that’s warm within the hand Falls friable between the tines. Sow hollyhocks and columbines. The tufted pansy, and the tall Snapdragon in the broken wall. Not for this summer, but for next. Since foresight is the gardener’s text. And though his eyes may never…
Read MoreCommemorating the Beginning of WWI with a Sea of Red Ceramic Poppies at the Tower of London
“The work commemorated the centenary of the outbreak of World War I and was made up of 888,246 ceramic red poppies, one for each British or Colonial service member killed in the War. The title, Blood Swept Lands and Seas of Red refers to the first line of a poem by an unknown soldier in…
Read MoreAugust’s Quiet Creation: Joseph Wood Krutch and Helen Winslow on Summer’s Richness
Today’s Garden Words were featured on The Daily Gardener podcast: Click here to see the complete show notes for this episode. Words inspired by the garden are the sweetest, most beautiful words of all. Poppies soak up the sun in an August garden. August 21, 2019 On this day, when the air hangs thick with…
Read MoreHannah Rebecca Hudson’s “My Garden”: A Queen Among Flowers and Fields
by Hannah Rebecca Hudson It is set by fields of clover And sentinelled with trees, Hosts of sunbeams range it over ‘Tis owned by birds and bees. Larkspurs, leaning out of places Where bashful myrtles creep, Peep at monk-flowers’ hooded faces And poppies gone to sleep. There are wild and headstrong briers And thistle knights…
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