By Leslie Cox
Special to the Record
This year, as the anniversary of my dad鈥檚 passing eleven years ago draws near, I feel compelled to share this poem I wrote just days before he died. An ode to a wonderful father and gardening teacher鈥�
鈥橳was the night before Christmas and all round the yard
Most plants are sleeping like Geranium 鈥楢nn Folkard.鈥�
The beds are all mulched, piled high with old leaves
Protecting such gifts as my mom鈥檚 鈥楤razen Hussy.鈥�
Our roses are staked, their rambling branches secured
Against fierce winter storms the better endured.
Rhodos and pieris lend green delight to the scene
But wet snow on branches, jump quick you must clean.
Our clematis are tied to their trellises with care
As those fierce winds will likely not spare.
Many clematis are not yet ready to prune
Until four, maybe five, months this side of June.
The pond is winterized, pump removed and stored
But the waterfall repair is still on 鈥楾he List鈥� to be scored.
Our two fish, Larry and Curly, will miss buddy Moe
Who sadly was dinner for a Great Blue Heron foe.
No bird bath this season for our fine feathered friends
It is a cherished gift from our two-legged friends.
Reason enough to put it away lest it freeze
A crack would ruin, not to be replaced with great ease.
No beans, no peas left in the veg garden this season
The bed covered with clear plastic for very good reason.
And come March we will sow seeds in the ground
Warmed by plastic for earlier harvest abound.
Tomatoes, green and red, were plucked by our grandson and me
The greenhouse emptied for storing plants not meant to freeze.
Dylan weighed them all before we packed the green ones away
In beer flats under newspaper to slowly ripen one day.
The fruit trees have been barren of fruit a while now
Pears, apples picked and processed鈥any of you know how.
For the first time I made Spiced Pear Butter this year
Using an old food mill from my granny most dear.
The porch railing is festooned in its garland of green
Gaily wrapped with red lights, Christmas colours supreme.
Our brightly lit villages are set up with train circling round
It鈥檚 not just for grandkids these two grandparents have found.
Outside, moonlight casts shadows on bare branches galore
Creating the stage for what was sure to be in store.
So, imagine my glee when on the scene who should appear
But St. Nick, himself, in his sleigh pulled by eight reindeer.
Decked out in his red suit complete with white trim
He looked exactly as I had always imagined of him.
There was that twinkle in his eye as he reached in his bag
To leave presents for two gardeners including plant tags.
Everything on our Wish List from new rake to new boots
Warm gloves for wet springs, lots of pots for new shoots.
Shiny new pruners for John鈥� he is the master of those
Though this spring I must apprentice, I do suppose.
Two books on gardening will give us winter delight
鈥橳il spring comes knocking and the time change in light.
Seeds for the veggie garden, a wheel for the barrow
How I wish I could play in the garden tomorrow.
St. Nick was finished with us, time to move on next door
The night was waning and so many houses more.
He winked and exclaimed, as in his sleigh he stood tall
鈥淎 very Merry Christmas and Happy Gardening to all!鈥�
Leslie Cox co-owns Growing Concern Cottage Garden in Black Creek. Her website is www.duchessofdirt.ca.
