In Garndmother’s garden the hollyhocks
Row upon row lifted wreathed stalks
With bloom of purple, of pearly white,
Of close-frilled yellow, of crimson bright.
In Grandmother’s garden the roses red
Grew in a long, straight garden bed,
By yellow roses with small close leaves;
Any yuccas – we called them Adams and Eves!
Threaded with fringes of fairy weaves;
By marigolds in velvet browns,
And heart’s-ease in their splendid gowns;
Primrose, waiting the twilight hours.
Touch-me-nots, and gilliflowers.
Was it October, June or May?
Grandmother’s garden was always gay.
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