Category Archives: poem

Bleak Mid-Winter

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the bleak mid-winter / Frosty wind made moan, / Earth stood hard as iron, / Water like a stone;/ Snow had fallen, snow on snow,/ Snow on snow, / In the bleak mid-winter / Long ago.
Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him / Nor earth sustain; / Heaven and earth shall flee away / When He comes to reign: / In the bleak mid-winter / A stable-place sufficed / The Lord God Almighty, / Jesus Christ.
Enough for Him, whom cherubim / Worship night and day, / A breastful of milk / And a mangerful of hay; / Enough for Him, whom angels / Fall down before, / The ox and ass and camel / Which adore.
Angels and archangels / May have gathered there, / Cherubim and seraphim / Thronged the air, / But only His mother / In her maiden bliss, / Worshipped the Beloved / With a kiss.
What can I give Him, / Poor as I am? / If I were a shepherd / I would bring a lamb, / If I were a wise man / I would do my part, / Yet what I can I give Him, / Give my heart.
These are the words from the poem In The Bleak Midwinter by poet Christina Rossetti, which her lyrics have made a lovely Christmas carol since the early 1900’s.
Work, work, work, and then rest. Warm, cold, warm, cold, cold … the seasons of life, some shorter than others.
The calendar says it is 3 days into winter, though the freezing cold has been around for weeks now. This week I have experienced some brief moments for reflection and observance to the reason for this Christmas season. This Sunday church attendance had picked up and we arrived just as the bells chimed, to find the pews filled. The 4th Sunday of Advent, Dean and I seated ourselves in the balcony of our 190-year old gothic-style church near the choir. The view was like of a bird’s-eye, watching as other late comers found a space or two to join the congregation while the purple vestments of the priest and deacon glittered at the altar. The most touching was the worshippers coming forth for communion, with Dean and I to join by the grace of God to commune with Him.
The song above Bleak Mid-Winter played overhead while sitting at a large novelty store. This is our last chance for shopping before Christmas gatherings. My tired feet and I awaited while my Dean was in search of the right gift for my son and son-in-law. My feet ached after standing for 7-8 hours at the spice shoppe, so I found a bit of solace in a quiet corner surrounded by books, novelities, and shoppers. Reflections of the lyrics brought me to Him. Whether it be the pure white snow, a shining star on a clear winter night, sharing intimate communion with others, or sitting in a store quietly, all and many more opportunities draw us to our Heavenly Father and His Son, Jesus Christ. He dwells amongst us. Merry Christmas to you, and may you know the gift of love and peace through Jesus Christ.

Mirror

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MirrorWhile painting and redecorating the interior walls of the home I have lived in for 27 years, I see how a mirror reflects light into a room, illuminating openness and beauty. I came across a mirror that has been many places in this home and two others over the years. This hand-crafted, wood-carved framed mirror has been in my bedroom, living room, and kichen at various times the past 35 years. I will part ways with this mirror, as it reflects memories of dreams not fulfilled. Given to me by my ex when dreams and promises were made, though empty. I am over it all, looking into a new reflection for life. I am loved. And I am beautiful in God’s eyes, to my new husband, and myself. You cannot lie to me anymore.
One of my favorite lyrics, and then a haiku poem coming from my heart …
“Well, the truth about a mirror
Is that a damned old mirror
Don’t really tell the whole truth.
It don’t show what’s deep inside
Oh, read between the lines.
And it’s really no reflection of my youth.”

George Strait

That square old mirror
It is me, self, I inside
Mere reflection veered askew

Anna Marie Gall
November 27, 2013

Autumn Haiku Poems

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Gourds Harvest
“Vines withered, harvest gourds
gather together autumn porch
vintage bench, red leaves.”

Anna Marie Gall
November 6, 2013

“Aglow crimson red
gold orange green-laced cooper
willow weeps winter.”

Anna Marie Gall
November 6, 2013

Pumpkins, Bumpkins

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The past two days it has been a steady rain off and on. So some red, orange, and golden yellow-colored leaves had remained on the trees, illuminating from the fresh water. Today’s rain has been heavier, more color has fallen to the ground. But the most colorful this Halloween are the pumpkins and bumpkins that glow tonight. Trick-or-treaters walking on streets or at the neighborhood trunk-n-treats while gourds and pumpkins are displayed for autumn vignettes. Shared in the collage are photos of my children and grandchildren, and some of their pumpkin art … and a poem written by my brother. Such creative bumpkins in the family.

AUTUMN AGAIN by Richard Bates

Bleeding with color, leaves parachute
and cry out: this is the end
of something great; now the trees
wear a fashion of surrender.
Deep shadows pour over the lawns
and streets- where there’s a feeling
that it’s getting late; despite all rumors
and denial, dark clouds play out
some ancient prophecy: how the cold wind
scatters secrets come September…

Sprouts Forthcoming

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Fresh sprouts forthcoming ~
gardener learns life lessons
patience, faith, hope, love.

I was inspired yesterday morning to jot down these words, another word garden. Haiku poems flow for me as I experience nature, life, and love. A few days ago I planted more seeds, gourd seeds. Seems late once again, but I am a part-time farmer with a full-time heart. Once these seedlings grow their second set of leaves we will plant into the ground along side the teepee poles Dean and I bent from repurposed steel poles. This summer and autumn we hope some children come visit our greenhouse at Boone Hollow Farm, and play under the gourd vine teepees. With patience, faith, hope, and love some crafty garden art will be created from the long-neck, birdhouse, and bowl gourds, the fruit of these vines. Next week more seeds to sprout for microgreens to create yummy crunchy summer veggie wraps in the not too far future, another type of garden art.
Microgreens

Veggie Wrap

Sunset Honeysuckle Sweet

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Honeysuckle

Summer evening still
Sunset honeysuckle sweet
Peachy sky resides.

This Friday evening I experience the calm after last week’s storms while enroute to Boone Hollow Farm where our greenhouse shelters our plants. Gorgeous week it has been, mild 70’s and 80’s. The fragrance of the honeysuckle growing wildly along the 2-lane highway fences engulf my nostrils. Such a contrast from a week ago. Dean and I load our van with market plants as every Friday night. Terra cotta pots of basil, dill, and sage have been taken to the Lake Saint Louis Farmers’ Market this morning. Did you know that herbs do best in terra cotta? The pot absorbs moisture and allows the plant to be watered longer. I snipped thyme from my kitchen terra cotta pot for the turkey breast that will be tonight’s crockpot dinner. Roasted red potatoes and green beans will accompany the tender meat entree. Sunday will be more of the same at the Chandler Hill Vineyards Farmers’ Market. Only rain showers are called for Sunday. Dean will have a pleasant visit with his oldest son and his lovely lady while selling at the market. I will be selling spices and herbs at the Olde Town Spice Shoppe Saturday and Sunday. Buy local, and come visit me at the small shoppe in historic St. Charles. Dean with Deanna Greens And Garden Art will vend at the Lake Saint Louis Farmers’ Market and Chandler Hill Vineyards Farmers’ Market. Just look for our lush green perennials and herbs, and buy! Market leisurely this weekend in St. Charles County, Missouri, as we have much to offer.

Park Bench

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Park Bench

Nestled trees, sunlight
While a stroll park bench invites
Wispy shadows, warmth stays

My morning lingered and I languished until the lunch hour. I could not wait any longer to get outside to take in the spring air and 70 degree weather. I set out to walk a bit, but did not get too far. Well, this Haiku poem says it all.

The Bird Believes In Spring

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Palm Sunday Snow Storm 2013
You have to believe in happiness,
Or happiness never comes …
Ah, that’s the reason a bird can sing –
On his darkest day he believes in Spring.

Douglas Malloch in “You Have To Believe”

It is coming despite what this photo of my front yard looks like!

Without Telling All

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Many times, life becomes one motion after another, autopilot. I write to think, to feel, to reconnect. I wrote a Haiku poem over a year ago after a creative co-worker during the holiday season was promoting some nontraditional interoffice good cheer with a Haiku contest on Haiku Day. I shared mine with my co-workers and here on my blog. See https://deannagreensandgardenart.wordpress.com/2011/12/22/happy-haiku-day/. I have an interest to continue this writing style, as it keeps me on a walk, and I feel during my walk. The Japanese refer to this as “ginko”, maybe because of the ginko trees they see during their walk. Ginko Tree Trail
Check out http://www.wikihow.com/Write-a-Haiku-Poem on the differences between English and Japanese haiku, and more details on this writing style. “Haiku uses an economy of words to paint a multi-tiered painting, without ‘telling all'”, according to the Wikipedia reference Garrison, Denis M. Hidden River: Haiku. Modern English Tanka Press. p. iii. ISBN 978-0-615-13825-1. Here is my Haiku after today’s walk at my lunch break …

Earth maken new life ~
Worm underneath sprouts of green
Orange breast robin feast.