White lilies standing six feet tall;
roses, doubled, pink, enthrall;
morning glories, trellis high;
chameleon plants that do not lie,
but stand upright, with tiny blooms;
hydrangeas. The warm wind blows tunes
through plastic flowers as they spin,
pause awhile, begin again.
Marigolds march by the walk;
the budding mums can almost talk.
The rhododendron flowers are gone;
peonies stretch across the lawn,
their blossoms but a memory,
like trilliums, once heavenly.
The garden weaves around the house
in narrow beds made by my spouse,
while I succumb to summer heat
and wait for autumn. What a treat!
Jean, at 80, has been writing poems since she was 18. For 25 years she published a popular poetry quarterly of up to 100 pages, with a subscribership of nearly 500. Illness in 1986 ended the magazine. She currently publishes, by email, a 2-page monthly of clean humor. Contact her at firstname.lastname@example.org.