Fairy Garden

The early morning sun
  Just midway in the sky
Showers my garden with translucent light.
  The green vines and leaves
  Glow, Sparkle
The Spirit flows through the green
  Leaves and vines and stems,
  By the sun's light and the earth's water.
Green tomatos hang on their vines
  The weather gnome measuring the rain,
  Lost in their stems bearing

  Big boys, plumes, and cherries,
  Awaiting to be red and yellow.
A corner for weeds hides Heather's squirrel
  That dubious king of thieves.
And right by, Queen Mab sits on her wooden pot,
  Invited by love,
  Sweet and young,
  Her insect wings spread.
To Sing to the Spirit to nurture and mature the garden.
The Spirit turns the leaves towards the nourishing sun.
  Soaking in the sun's soul
  Radiating light
  Joining the watery nourishment inside
  Until buds appear
  And blooms, small and white, open
  Dropping off to reveal the green fruit
  Warming in the sun's soul.

The mushroom gnome, dear friend,
  Guarded by his mushrooms
  Guards Virginia's yellow tomatos
  Her spirit watching over them.
A tomatillo bush is just shedding its blooms
  Revealing small buds wrapped in green layers,
  A mysterious, new offering of immigrant soul.
Green peppers, trusted and reliable are ready for the salad
And egg plants just now are appearing under their blooms
  Both givers of taste and nutrients
  In the great cosmic web of need and care.
The lettuce has gone to seed next to
  Italian chicory, brussel sprouts, and kale in full leaf,

  Wrapping around the corner,
  Hiding the shadow fairy
  Harbinger of the Otherworld.
The butterfly hanger stands high,
  Carrying a planter full of pepper seedlings
  And Juci's red tear drop
  Of sweet nutrient for the unseen humming bird.
Behind, green beans still bloom and sprout
  After their Spring crop,
  Long and bulging.
In their midst,
  The crescent moon smiles
  Enclosing the earth,
  A channel for the Otherworld.

There's a row for nature unhindered to grow wild
  Flox, tiny lavender petals hidden in the weeds
  Nasturtium, little golden trumpets
  Almost loss in the marigolds,
  And tall airy bachelor buttons, spokes of purple petals.
Tucked away in tall and short
  Spidery and leafy weeds
  Smart weed with purple granula pedals
  All overarching marigolds and begonas.
Over all stand watchful
  An old faded, falling apart straw man 
  And his friend the scarecrow
  Like Oz unfearful to
  Rummaging crows and squirrels.

Far in the back two exiled tomato men
  Hang upside down
  On the swing,
  Swaying in the wind,
  Leaves turned to the sun,
  Fruit ripening, as promised.
All awaiting mother and daughter,
  Bent over in the sun's soul,
  To harvest the fruit
  Of my labor
  Of the fairy's blessing
For salads and soups.

©2009 John A. Mills