The Garden Year

The Garden Year

January brings the snow,
Makes our feet and fingers glow.

February brings the rain,
Thaws the frozen lake again.

March brings breezes, loud and shrill,
To stir the dancing daffodil.

April brings the primrose sweet,
Scatters daisies at our feet.

May brings flocks of pretty lambs
Skipping by their fleecy dams.

June brings tulips, lilies, roses,
Fills the children’s hands with posies.

Hot July brings cooling showers,
Apricots, and gillyflowers.

August brings the sheaves of corn,
Then the harvest home is borne.

Warm September brings the fruit;
Sportsmen then begin to shoot.

Fresh October brings the pheasant;
Then to gather nuts is pleasant.

Dull November brings the blast;
Then the leaves are whirling fast.

Lettered Hymns and Carols from my Etsy shop, @GraceUnderPressureSC

Chill December brings the sleet,
Blazing fire, and Christmas treat.

~Sara Coleridge

My maternal Grandfather, Charles McBryde Jenkins, was a veteran of WWI, a beloved pharmacist in his small Southern town – they called him “Doc” – and a jovial, witty gentleman.

He seemed to have a never-ending wealth of poetry, literature, and witty sayings behind those twinkling blue eyes. I loved him heartily, and was always delighted when some bit of verse would trip lightly off of his silver tongue.

As my family grew, I cherished the hours we sat around the table, the fire, or the front porch, reading and reciting verses, Scripture and classical literature. Many of our favorites we read and recited over and over, until memorization was inevitable, although we often indulged for the sheer love of the piece.


“The Garden Year” was one of these, as was “The Leap Year Poem”:

Thirty days hath September,
April, June and November.
All the rest have thirty-one,
Excepting February alone,
And that has twenty-eight days clear
And twenty-nine in each leap year.

Note: In the reading of “The Garden Year”, I always amended November. My little sunshine of an only daughter was born in November, and I could not bear her being attached to a month which was described as only “Dull”! So…I always changed it to “Brisk November”! It sounded so much more …well, not dull.

Years later when,  having picked up the book to read herself and running across the poem, she was puzzled that it did not read as she remembered! She called me on it, and we had a good laugh, and she knew why I had changed it.

May your New Year be filled with chosen pleasures which enrich your heart, soul, mind and strength, and may you add your portion of Beauty, Goodness and Truth to the world around you.

“Strength and dignity are her clothing, and she smiles at the future.” ~Proverbs 31:25

Bonne Année!

With kindest regards,


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