My Garden
Carrot and cucumber!           Â
Cabbage and kale!
Peppers and peas and tomatoes!
Leafy greens that began as seeds,
a salad grows in my garden.
Sun warms the soil.
I sprinkle with water.
I mix and I trim and I mulch.
Squirrels and birds wait their turn
for the salad that grows in my garden.
©draft, Patricia J. Franz
Our Poetry Host this week is Linda at A Word Edgewise.Â
Linda is a school librarian, who with all teachers and school workers, uniquely mourns the senseless murders of children and their teachers in Ulvade, Texas.
May we as a nation find the courage to end gun violence! And if you are inclined, consider supporting Everytown.org.
I am very late to the gardening party! It took 62 years and a pandemic to pique an interest in growing my own food.
One of my main excuses has been the geographic challenges of living part time in the desert and part time in the mountains. Extreme heat, extreme cold, an inconsistent periods of time in both places interfere with plant care and harvests.
But SlowFoodTahoe.org offered a path for organic gardening in the High Sierras with soil classes, intro to vegetables, and starter plants to sweeten the pot! I added yet another zoom session to my pandemic weekly schedule and soon I was amassing 5-gallon buckets and raking up the acres of pine needles and wood chips that form the top layer of my Lake Tahoe property.
Last summer, I grew potatoes, lettuce, kale, chard, beans, peas, tomatoes, tomatillos, and strawberries. The squirrels took their fare share, but it was a delight to build a salad from my own backyard!
This year, for my birthday, my husband built me a raised bed with requisite critter-defensible screening. I have found delight in dirty hands, row planting, and tending to water and low-impact fertilizing.
A salad is growing in my garden!
Patricia Franz is a kidlit writer and published poet. She believes children, dogs, and sourdough have a lot to teach us about life, joy, and wonder. She has raised two boys, four dogs, and holds a master’s degree in Theology with a focus on children’s spirituality. Patricia, her husband, her Bernese Mountain dog, Bonny, and her sourdough starter split their time between the Arizona desert and the Sierra Nevada mountains. 
Your poem is so lovely. As is the backstory. How very rewarding for you! And how sweet of your husband. Enjoy! (Your garden and your salad – and your hungry little critters, too.)
Thank you, Kathryn!
I love it! I’ve tried gardening…and the poor plants have a tough time surviving my neglect. I love your raised bed garden! You make me want to give it a try if only so I could write as fun a poem as ‘A Salad Growing in my Garden!’ Bon apetit!
During the pandemic, I found it a source of peacefulness to tend the vegetables, water, snip a bowl of greens. Yesterday, when I spent the day transplanting my starters, I found that same space for quiet.
Your poem expresses your delight, Patricia. I’d love to share a homegrown salad with you!
It has been both a delight and a source and space for quiet, both of which I have welcomed this week.
Yay for the salad in your garden…and brava for taking on the geographic challenges! I took a Master Gardener course last fall and have learned SO MUCH…my geographic challenge is SHADE. But I’m learning kale and spinach don’t mind…
I’m very impressed with the Master Gardeners who are guiding us in this work!
“Squirrels and birds wait their turn”– as a fellow gardener, I felt that! Thanks for the smile today. 🙂
Hope your squirrels and birds share!
Patricia, your poem sets up a delightful rhythm through your considered use of alliteration and repetition. I love how you view it as a salad even before the harvesting takes place. This poem works so well on various levels for me. It sounds so good in my ear and the words also appeal to my eye.
Thank you for your kind words, Alan. This means a lot to me.
Gardening is such a respite! I love that your squirrels took their “FARE” share! When I look at the plants in the front (unfenced) yard that the deer have nibbled, I’ll remember that!
wink-wink! glad someone caught that!
Way to plunge in and learn something ancient and new and good for the souls of humans and the planet, Patricia! Your garden is most attractive and your poem is rhythmically brilliant.
The world needs more garden therapy — for many, many reasons!
Be-leaf-me, I’m totally ‘rooting’ for your critter-proof garden salad, Patricia. You make a great case for getting our hands dirty. 🙂
Thanks, Bridget! The critters and I live by an uneasy truce these days!