Spanish Brocade, that old favorite of bees,
landing pad for monarch butterflies, who gather
their energy for the long flight to Mexico–
it’s hard work, becoming the souls of lost children.
Experienced gardeners still believe that marigolds
are tomatoes’ friends, protection from pestilence–
even if there was that book last year that called this
a myth. Tell me about a garden that grows without
them, those gold edges of myth like a bright thread
that makes the fabric of botany stronger. Tell me–
but I reserve the right not to pay any attention.
Prompts from NaPoWriMo (use the name of an heirloom seed variety) and Poetic Asides (experienced/inexperienced).
15 thoughts on “Tell Me About a Garden”
those gold edges of myth like a bright thread
that makes the fabric of botany stronger.
Thank you, Sanaa!
Huh. My grandmother swore by “those gold edges of myth.” But it does make sense that if they attract Monarchs, they won’t repel other insects. Who knew!
I don’t know … I still like the idea of plant companions, and they do have a strong smell.
“It’s hard work becoming the souls of lost children.” Wow.
I too would have selected the lines that Sanaa and Sherry did. Fabulous poem altogether.
Thank you so much, Rosemary!
I love this: “it’s hard work, becoming the souls of lost children”
And the ending: “Tell me–
but I reserve the right not to pay any attention.”
My mother has always planted Marigolds around the garden’s edge – along with other flowers – for butterflies, etc. If you can remember, please link to Mr. Linky with THE specific poetry POST – not you blog in general. If we don’t click on it that day, it is hard to find sometimes. Also, please link the “Imaginary Garden” and give it credit for the challenge. Thanks!
Sorry on both counts. 😦
its ok … You posted twice and I came here instead of to perhaps the next one on your blog . Will go check it out. The monarch butterfly uses the Outer Banks to travel to Mexico as well – they flutter along the coast, and a driver has a hard time not hitting them. How awful I feel when I see them dead on the two lane road…
We had that same experience when I was a kid and we moved to Minnesota just as they were migrating. 😦 Their path takes them through a particular cemetery in Mexico, where people traditionally believe they are the souls of children coming back to visit.
I’ve always planted marigolds with my tomatoes. Why not? Beautiful, as is your poem.
Thank you, Marian! I love flowers and “edibles” together.