Quadrille #127. We're inspired by the words "planting seeds". I thought immediately of my mother, and her annual excitement when her seed catalogs arrived. In her garden was a plaque which read "The kiss of the sun for pardon, the song of the birds for mirth. One is nearer God's heart in the garden than anywhere else on earth". Submitted to dVerse, May 3, 2021
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MOTHER
Each Spring she anxiously awaited
arrival of the annual seed catalogs.
She spent hours perusing the pages
and plotting her garden. She used
the ancient tiller to till the soil, and
she planted expectantly. Her happiest
hours were spent in her garden
communing with God.
What a lovely, vivd portrait of your mother, Beverly. Thank you for sharing it!
ReplyDeleteI like the image, too.
I remember the seed catalogue of my mother too... but I also remember how little harvest we got (except potatoes)
ReplyDeleteSo sorry your harvest was poor, Bjorn. The rich, black soil of mother's garden produced plentiful vegetables which were canned and sustained us through the long winters.
DeleteSo wonderful! My parents anxiously awaited gardening catalogs and gardening season, too. Some wonderful memories you brought me, with your poem. Thank you 💕
ReplyDeleteOh the memory of your mother is so beautifully encapsulated here, Bev!💝
ReplyDeleteYour quadrille portrays such a wholesome and comforting way of life, Bev. My grandfather used to get a seed catalogue, which I loved looking at with him. He let me choose seeds to plant in my own little plot.
ReplyDeleteNo doubt you've your grandfather to thank for your love of growing things today. Your grandfather planted more seeds than those in his garden!
DeleteHow Wonderful
ReplyDeleteHappy Monday Bev
much 💗 love
I'm going to chalk it up to "great minds think alike" as I too was scanning vintage seed advertisements (Burpee) for inspiration. Nice poem.
ReplyDeleteI know I would have loved your mother, Beverly. There is something about gardeners that's kinship. I think many gardeners are optimists, which you call "planting expectantly," combined with knowledge and hard work, that is a joy to be around. My dream is to grow enough food to get through the winter.
ReplyDeleteLovely bit of prose-poetry. I too recall a mother at the window, tending to a garden she loved so much. Thank you for the memories!
ReplyDeletewhat a fantastic image of your mother out working the soil. sounds a lot like my mother.
ReplyDeleteYes the garden is a chapel of a different kind! Full of Life!!
ReplyDeleteWell done!
Thank you for such a beautiful slice of your life, and your mother's. I definitely know the joy of looking through the seed catalogue (although mine is online).
ReplyDeleteHer happiest
hours were spent in her garden
communing with God
What a perfect sentiment. Thank you
Lovely quadrille.
ReplyDeleteThat describes my mother-in-law as well...she taught me to garden.
ReplyDeleteI spent many an hour tending to gardens over the years. I absolutely love it. Your poem reminded me of how satisfying gardening is for the soul. I loved your quadrille Bev ☺️
ReplyDeleteWhat a beautiful image of your mother, at peace with herself and God. I think everyone has that place, but not everyone knows where to find it.
ReplyDeleteThere is something prayer-like about gardening. I miss it very much.
ReplyDeleteMy mother loved to garden but it was my grandmother who devoured the seed catalogs .... her garden proof of her horticulture skill. You composed the sweetest tribute ....
ReplyDeletethat last line is the best seed planted
ReplyDeleteA lovely picture of your mother.
ReplyDeleteHow wonderful this is Beverly. I am becoming my mother more each day. She loved her garden as well.
ReplyDeleteSeed catalogues and dreaming of magazine style displays. I remember that too.
ReplyDeleteI remember my mother spending hours with those catalogs too. A garden cleanses and refreshes. (K)
ReplyDeleteI can picture this, Bev. It sounds like pure happiness.
ReplyDelete