The Emergent Garden

The antirrhinum dragons in their lair, 

the helianthus following the sun, 

the echinacea here and daisies there, 

each in its patch of loam all moist and brown. 

Each flower has its habit and its need. 

The tagetes likes unobstructed light.

The purple lamium enjoys the shade. 

The autumn sedum likes things dry and bright. 

But when it came to planting in the spring, 

I had no patience to attend to needs; 

and since we thought we should grow everything, 

I opened envelopes and mixed the seeds. 

I scattered willy-nilly up the row. 

and trusted them to do the best they could; 

and since I was too unconcerned to hoe, 

they sprouted and grew anyway they would. 

The Baby's Breath came first, then Zinnias, 

Rose Mallow, Cosmos, others I forget. 

Such rich diversity that Linnaeus 

would need two names for each to keep them straight. 

At first I didn't notice in the crush 

of flower racing flower for the sun 

some uninvited strangers in the lush 

and multicoloured jungle that had grown. 

The chenopodium album you may know 

as Pigweed, Goosefoot, Quarters of the Lamb. 

Glechoma hederacea travels slow 

as Creeping Charlie in a traffic jam. 

Docus carota, Queen Anne's Lace, is such 

perfection though a spot of blood appears. 

Silene vulgaris, sticky to the touch, 

is Bladder Campion or MaidensTears. 

So twining, stretching, filling every niche, 

the garden is set free to do its part. 

Unplanned it needs no plan to make one rich 

and grow its lavish way into the heart.