Foxes in the Grass
A family of foxes hiding in the grass
Showed off their rusty tails as I walked past.
A family of foxes hiding on the hill
Not a sound did they make, hiding oh so still.
A tiny yellow bird landed on the biggest one
Pecking, poking here and there and having lots of fun.
As quickly as she landed, she gently flew away
I wondered why the foxes let her poke them in this way.
And then that tiny little bird whispered in my ear
"Go and touch that furry tail, you do not need to fear."
And so I tip toed in the grass to that family
And touched the biggest rusty tail oh so carefully.
It wasn't soft and fluffy, but really kind of dry
"It's not a fox at all, but a big old weed!" I cried.
I rubbed and rubbed that big old tail in my dirty hand
And lots of tiny seeds fell like little grains of sand.
"That, my friend is a curly dock" the happy birdie said
"I like to eat their tiny seeds, so rich and scarlet red."
And as the birdie flew away, I gave a little laugh
How fun it is to think of foxes hiding in the grass!
written by Christine Summerfield / © October 18, 2019
Now that autumn time is here and days are growing cold
Colors change from deepest green to orange, red and gold
In my house I put away all my curtains of lace
And hang up curtains of heavy wool to cozy up my place.
And I put away my clothes of linen and cotton light
And don my woolly sweaters to keep me warm throughout the night.
But in the garden I aslo like to make a cozy nest
For a special kind of plant that's different than the rest...
They are bulbs round and plump and planted in the fall
They sleep in soil deep and dark until they hear the call
Of the robins who return with their song in spring.........
Waking up the garden...how they love to sing!
The first bulbs that will wake up are the Snow Drops white
You will find them on bended knee, they are a gentle sight.
Then the crocus open up to the spring time sun
They have little strings of gold inside each flowery one
That offer food to honey bees, who land inside their cups
They gather pollen from inside, how they feast and sup!
And then the yellow daffodils stand up straight and tall
They look like golden trumpets announcing spring time's call!
And oh, the tulips then arrive in colors of every kind
They too look like a chalice, so elegant and refined.
As I plant these autumn bulbs in the cool, dark earth
I think about their winter's sleep and about their birth.
And then I say a little prayer to the Father Sun
To shine upon them through the cold and protect each little one.
And as I sit in my cozy chair with my blanket warm
I'll think of bulbs all fast asleep midst the winter's storm.
And sing them a sweet lullaby with a rum tee dum tee dum
While they dream of dresses new in spring time days to come.
written by Christine Summerfield/October 11, 2017
I often like to share with you my love for plants so green
But I have another love that often goes unseen.
I have other kinds of friends, big and small and round
Smooth or jagged, straight or flat, they do not make a sound.
Behold the stones so old and wise, a wonder to behold.
Strong and dependable, their stories slowly unfold.
So come along and take my hand and walk a bit with me
And meet my friends, the ancient ones, so many we can see.
First, there are the travel stones that greet you at my home
They come from France and Italy, Switzerland and Rome.
Next there are the glossy ones found by my family
From the shores of Kootenay Lake in beautiful BC!
Right beside them are the ones shaped just like a heart
Gathered over many years, Nature's perfect art!
And when you walk along the back to a place small but wild
Shells and crystals all love here, placed by a little child.
They are gifts for fairies small, a simple offering
They like to curl up tight in them and softly sweetly sing!
And even a little school you'll find when you bend down low
A painted stone with colors bright, hidden way down below.
Across from it a Mother Stone sits under the Viburnum tree
She is named Grandmother Stone and sits there happily.
Her husband is not far away, the Grandfather of them all
He takes you to my comfy chair where you can hear the call
Of finches, robins and chickadees who land on sturdy rocks
Placed in the bird bath carefully, where they can drink and talk!
They land on the stepping stones in the water clear
They drink and bathe there all day long, they are so sweet and dear.
Then get up and walk some more to the sunny side
More stones do line the garden bed, where they happily abide.
The path will bring you to a place where neighbors like to meet
Two flat stones form a bridge for our happy feet.
All these stones are treasures, they are my dearest friends
They've been here since the beginning of time, they'll be here 'til the end.
Perhaps you too will find some stones sitting in the ground
Waiting patiently for you, without making a sound.
Pick one up and say hello and feel it in your hand
It might just have a story to tell of the earth and sky and sand.
And it just might become your friend and share a lesson or two
Of patience, strength and stability, fidelity oh so true.
And put it in a special place to honor it with love
You will give it happiness, a gift from high above.
written by Christine Summerfield
October 8, 2017
Daisies of the Fall
As I was slowly walking by one September day
I saw a burst of royal colors along the garden way.
It was not the usual feast of red and orange and gold
But it was brightest purple, a wonder to behold.
I stopped to look at these flowers with their centers of gold
They stood so tall and regal, like kings and queens of old.
They were full of honey bees, gathering the last of their food
Before retiring to their hives for winter's sleepy mood.
And another winged friend gently landed down
A Painted Lady butterfly with wings of rust and brown.
My oh my, how full of life you are in my garden green
You bring such beauty to me now, a gift I've never seen
And as I stopped to wonder at this colorful sight
A regal voice called to me in the autumn light...
"Oh yes, we are the Michaelmas Daisy, we bloom here in the fall
We are no ordinary daisy, we wait for the trumpet call
All the other daisies bloom in the summer light
They have a sweet simplicity, of softness and of white.
But we are royal violet in the glorious sun
Standing tall with Michael, with a message for everyone:"
When you stop and look at us, courage you will find
In Michaelmas daisies, strong and true in the autumn time.
written by christine Summerfield
October 5, 2017
Last of the Summer Lace
Now that autumn time is here and days are growing cold
Colors in the garden change from green to red and gold
I take my lacy curtains down and put them all away
Until the spring when when sun grows strong in the month of May.
And now I hang my winter curtains, soft and woolly and warm
They keep my little house safe against the winter's storm.
But as I looked outside my window, midst the last of the garden green
Another kind of summer lace could easily be seen
Strings of flowers small and white reaching to the sun
Climbed along my wooden fence, how happily they did run!
I walked over to the sight and listened for a while
And then a message soft and sweet gave me a little smile...
"Oh yes, we are the special vine called the "Silver Lace"
We bring a little joy to you with simplicity and grace.
In summer, all the other flowers do put on a show
But we keep climbing quietly, we grow and grow and grow!
And then when autumn colors change and Michaelmas arrives
It finally is our turn to bloom, the Silver Lacy Vine
Although we look quite delicate with tiny flowers white
Our vine is strong and sturdy, we really are quite a sight!"
And then a summer memory came slowly drifting by
Of dreamy lacy curtains white, blowing with a gentle sigh
I said a 'thank you' to the vine for gifting me with grace
A simple white delicacy...., the last of the Summer Lace.
As I walked along the sand
on the shores of Silver Lake
My feet did tread so softly-
a sound they did not make.
And then I saw a family
of tall and slender stems
They nodded their heads as if to say
"won't you be my friend?"
I stepped a little closer then
and what did I behold?
Cat tails firm and plump and fat-
Big and brown and bold.
I ran my finger up and down
its body firm and fat
It felt so long and kind of strong,
like the tail of my cat!
"Yes, our name is 'cat tail'"
they all replied to me
"The red wing black birds like us so
and sing a kickereekee!"
And then a wind came rushing by
and a tail it opened wide
I stepped a little closer then
and took a peek inside.
It was filled up to the top
with white and silky stuff
It tickled my finger and made me laugh-
soft and feathery fluff!
I plucked the cat tail from the stem
and held it in my hand
The wind it blew that feathery fluff
all along the sand.
The seeds they whirled and twirled around
happy as can be
Exclaiming "we can dance in the wind-
finally we are free!"
I waved that magic wand around
and watched the faeries fly
And then I waved my hand to bid
them all a sweet goodbye.
And when I went back home that night
I petted my kitty's fur
I told her all about the plants
that are named just after her.
So when you walk along the shore
and the autumn winds do blow
Be sure to look for cat tails high
and stop and say 'hello'.
You too can wave your magic wand
and watch the faeries fly
And wave to them a gentle hand-
An autumn sweet goodbye.
written by Christine Summerfield/September 2016