POETRY
Turn Me to Stone
a free verse poem on new beginnings, garden dreams of our new property
Reclaimed wood, once the scratching posts and wind-breakers of horses shaped into a fence, L-shaped at the back of a property, now ours.
Can you see it?
Painted russet and gray, the backdrop for North Carolina native wildflowers, planted with care. In patches of yellow — asters, wild sunflowers, Schweinitz’s restored, treasured here.
Purple coneflower, with drooping petals and regal warmth gathered in bulbous centers
In clusters of red — trumpet honeysuckle along the right, a white lattice to bear them up. Lovely scarlets I’ll admire in the glow of morning.
There must be blues here too. Stokes’ aster for their wild and sprawling beauty.
“Pinks” for their fragrance and soft-greened glow.
Wild columbine hangs heavy in bat-like reds; air currents shifting them in their slumber. The scent forces my eyes to close.
A garden path in white river stone snakes between, patches of color alive with the bustle of bees, the alight of butterflies, the buzz of ruby-throated kings.
Turn me to stone. That I may spend eternity among these.
More poetry by this author:
The Wisdom of Trees A World Without Butterflies The Waters Run Clean Through Me
Christina M. Ward is a poet and nature writer from North Carolina. Author Newsletter. Her best selling nature poetry collection is available here: organic
