only now beginning

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This is a favorite old poem, and I still feel this way as I grow older.

only now beginning
late-blooming rose
on the bush planted
long before
we came here

Ellen Grace Olinger

The photos in this post are from this summer.

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September years

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September years
the time of bright flowers
is gone for a time
how beautiful the daylily leaves
resting on the ground

I am so grateful for the years so far in my life.  I am in my 60s now and learning a new time.  Perhaps because I had a chronic illness when young, I may feel older than others I know my age.  That’s fine.  The gardens are wild and my life is quiet.  Happy to pass the torch. Grateful.  I took the photo yesterday.  Ellen

gardens overflow

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early hours
of quiet and poetry
gardens overflow
and if some winter
my mind forgets
my heart will know

* * *

One of the first haiku I remember writing was from a long ago autumn, inspired by our perennial garden in Wisconsin.  The previous owners had planted flowers that return every year.  My heart is full of gratitude.  The Midwest, USA has always been my home.

frost soon —
cutting flowers
generously

Published in The TOP, The Tournament of Poetry (1995).

Ellen Grace Olinger

Over twenty years . . .

Over twenty years, I’ve been watching the seasons here.  I never tire of the same views or of writing the same poems.  Only hope to capture a little more, a little better.

sunrise
frost on the lawn

leaves
of the wild rose
turn gold

Ellen Grace Olinger

storing up images again

Today was a day to return books to the library, have a fish sandwich at a local restaurant by myself, and then go to a grocery store.  I bought a bouquet of pink roses and daisies.  I was tired when I returned home and rested. Watched some news.  I wrote a great deal for about a year, and now am storing up images again.

recharging
my computer
I see the snow
melting on the
garage roof

late November

Dark and light: I love watching dawn arrive, as it always has no matter how long the night.  I watch the moon and the stars, the clouds, in silence and with music.  I write.  For years, I went to school and/or taught at night. So I could not write as much, had to save my strength.  Keep my priorities clear at different times in life so far.

In the afternoons then some extra rest is needed some days, especially as I grow older now. I sit quietly and track the light in the house through the year, or perhaps I should say years.

late November
sun fills a glass
for a time