 Counting the Years . When I was born the summer sun was high up in the sky The green beans they did run and run, up the poles so high! When I was one tomatoes grew all round and red and plump I learned to walk, I learned to run and even how to jump! And then I grew and grew some more and turned the age of two I learned to speak and sing among the violets so blue. When I was three I learned to say "I" instead of me The Lilies of the Valley they grew up right up to my knee. And I remember when I was a little girl of four My hands were yellow, buttery bright from dandelions galore! At five years old I started school and got a watering can To water the geraniums that grew in pots and pans. And at the tender age of six, I liked to watch the ants Crawling on the peony buds and other kinds of plants. Then the sun went round and round and seven I did turn Asparagus grew tall and green mid soft and feathery ferns. And then upon the age of eight, I liked to climb a tree where apples grew in autumn time for our family. And at the age of nine years old, our tree of apricots Gave us loads and loads of fruit, we liked them quite a lot! At ten years old, I sold my own bunches of homegrown dill The first money I did make, it really was a thrill! And now I am much older now, the years go by and by I do not count them anymore, the numbers are too high! But I do like to sit and tell stories now and then Of memories in the garden green from ages one to ten! © written by Christine Summerfield/August 28, 2018 
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 Watermelon Fun
Five little girls one summer's day Went to the garden to laugh and play. But when the sun so hot did grow And no cooling breeze did blow... Grandma had the perfect treat Watermelon red and sweet! Slippery, sloppery! Splittery, splattery! Juice - a -running Seeds -a - spitting Underneath the shade a sitting There's nothing like the summer treat Of watermelon and bare feet! © written by Christine Summerfield/August 25, 2018  G is for Gunnera
Gunnera, Gunnera Growing in the sunnera Showing off your great big leaves! Gunnera, Gunnera You are so much funnera As tall as a dinosaur's knee! Gunnera, Gunnera You provide a tonnera Of shade for my friends and me! © Christine Summerfield/August 20, 2018 Good Thymes I have so many kinds of thyme in my garden green Some you may have met before and some you've never seen! And there's so many things to do with all the different thymes Here's a few to share with you in story and in rhyme...  French thyme and English thyme, I like to plant in pots. They grow just by my kitchen door I cook with them a lot. And sometimes in my winter tea I like a little zing Lemon thyme and orange thyme are the perfect thing!  Elfin thyme and woolly thyme like to creep and crawl In the cracks between the stones and along a wall. It's fun to walk on woolly thyme in my barren feet A lawn of thyme is fun to grow It really can't be beat! There are so many things to do with all the many thymes Fun to use and fun to grow and even fun to rhyme. But my favorite kind of thyme is one you cannot see Time for tea and teddy bears, friends and family!  © written by Christine Summerfield/June 28, 2018
 Hollyhocks
Hollyhock, hollyhock Such a pretty dolly dock In summer my oh my! Hollyhock, hollyhock Standing up so tally tock Reaching to the sky! Hollyhock, hollyhock Grows along the wally wock For all the passersby! ©Christine Summerfield/July 25, 2018   Linden Summer Dreams Have you ever had a scent that took you far away? To a distant memory where you once did play? Well this happened to me on a sleepy summer day... It came about when I did a walk one sunny afternoon And suddenly I stepped inside a special kind of room I then I heard a buzzing sound up in the canopy The humming of the honey bees intoxicated me But most of all, what I recall was the sweet perfume Wafting o'er my senses five, it slowly did consume. Above the flowers sweet and gold were bracts so green and long They looked like helicopter wings delicate but strong Amidst the fragrance and the sound, I slowly fell asleep And dreamed of places far away with stories wild and deep Bees a chanting... Eyelids slanting... Wings a spinning... Dreams beginning... The fragrance carried me away with its scent sublime To other places in the world and to other times Places where the linden tree is loved and so revered For its special treasures for a multitude of years Slovenia was the special place I first saw in the east Where children danced around the tree during spring time feasts And then I saw the linden tree in Polish countrysides Protecting castles and churches old with reverence and pride And artisans were carving wood from the linden tree Of Mary holding her little child oh so tenderly And then I flew to cities grand, Berlin and Paris too Where linden trees dotted streets and giant avenues And mothers in the land of France had a wisdom best Linden tea for children young to help them sleep and rest And it is said in tales of old that maidens young and free Waited for their knights so bold 'neath the linden tree In Germany the leaders met in tiny village squares Underneath the linden tree to make a judgement fair For linden trees were symbols then of justice, truth and peace In ancient lands and ancient times of Turkey, Rome and Greece I flew around the world it seemed on that summer's day To places where the linden tree had stories old to say So if you ever find yourself amidst the linden sap You just might like to fall asleep for a summer nap And climb aboard to journey far on helicopter wings Where the linden tree is loved by poets, knights and kings. written by Christine Summerfield © July 22, 2018   Umbrella in the Sun As I was walking down the street one sultry summer day My umbrella shaded me from the sunny rays. I held it straight above my head, a shadow it did make But then I stopped and looked awhile, and said "for heaven's sake!"  I saw a white umbrella too, but it was upside down The top was flat, the bottom small and it was nice and round. I wondered why it stood right up and opened to the sky Instead of pointing to the ground, it stood so straight and high!  And when I took a closer look I saw more and more Teeny tiny umbellets blooming by the score! I gazed at this pretty plant So delicate and white And then I heard a little voice So sweet and so polite...  "My family of lady bugs we land here every day To take a rest and sit awhile after morning play. You hold your umbrella down to shade you from the sun But this umbrella opens wide, there's room for everyone! For butterflies and honeybees and praying mantis too For ladybugs and dragonflies with their wings of blue!  "Other plants have umbels too, like celery and dill Coriander, parsley green, give us quite a thrill! And then there is the fennel plant that tastes like licorice sweet Yarrow flowers, elder too are quite the summer treat! We love the umbel family, the flowers and the weeds For resting and for feeding on the teeny tiny seeds!"  I thought about the carrot wild
and the seeds they made And how umbrellas can be used for rain or sun or shade! Thank you dearest lady bug, you tiny lady bird For teaching me about the plant, and the "umbel" word! written by Christine Summerfield © July 19, 2018  Elements Four Sitting quietly by the shore Beholding elements...one, two, three four. The water splashes! singing clear Quiet stones sit for a thousand years. Brother wind blows all a swirl Patterns made they move and curl. But where is the fire? you might ask Father Sun wears his golden mask. Making diamonds so divine On the water, they sparkle and shine. Water, air, fire, earth Elements Four coming to birth. © Christine Summerfield /July 14, 2018  Jewel in the Crown A field full of weeds as the summer sun burns... The old ones recede and the new take their turns... Blossoming now on the warm summer stage Enters the King as we turn the page... Standing tall with scepter of thorns His purple flowers await to be born. Filling his crown with flowers bright Like amethyst jewels they shine in the light.  With his prickles sharp, no one comes near Instilling respect and a wee bit of fear! But the winged ones know of his royal treasures They dig for his gold with fervor and pleasure! For his flowers are softer to the touch The bees and the butterflies like them so much!  And when the jewels fade away from the crown They change to brittle, dry rusty brown But the gold finch knows of the treasures inside Quickly she lands and knows where they hide. She mines all day in a cloudy white puff Filling her beak with seeds from the fluff!  After the seeds from the rusty old crown The last gift remains, the gift of the down. Silky and soft, the gentlest of all Will line the nests of the finches so small.
 A Wall of Happy Houses A wall of happy houses is just along the street Full of every color for the birds who like to sing tweet tweet! The colors make a rainbow of yellow, blue and green Orange bright and violet and pinks of shiny sheen! This neighborhood’s for winged ones, for finches red and blue Who play and fly and sing all day: “Tra Lee, Tra Lah, Tra Loo!” They never seem to argue or get into a fight They’re much too busy singing and playing in the light! 
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