Garden
Colors of Armistice
Click for meditationRegarding "Colors of Armistice"
On a grey and cold November day
In 1929, eighty nine years ago,
My father was working with my
Grandfather cutting firewood in the
Backyard. My father was eight
Years old, and the First World War
Had ended 11 years before.
All of a sudden, the “whistles”
Went off in the town, and
My father was startled. He asked
My grandfather what the
Whistles were for, and my
Grandfather told him that the
“War” had ended at that
Very hour, 11 years before…
My father never forgot
That moment, and every Armistice
Day, or Veterans Day as it is
Now called in the United States,
He would tell me the story.
Fast forward fifty six years later
To 1985, and I was living in Belgium.
It was common in Europe for
People to wear a small red poppy
In their lapel on Armistice Day because of the
Great poem, “In Flanders Fields,” written in 1915
By Canadian Lieutenant Colonel and doctor, John McCrae.
At the time of the poem, beautiful red
Poppies were seen to be growing up out of the
Grasses where dead soldiers were hastily
Buried in Ypres, Belgium. And so my
Memories became even further stirred
On November 11th every year…
Now I will always go out into my garden
On that day, and think of my
Father’s stories, and I will always
Look for a late autumn flower
To symbolize the beautiful red poppy.
This year I saw a pink daisy.
It stood in remembrance as well.
Leo Carroll
November 21, 2018
On this day,
Holy in the fields of
Flanders and
On the lapels o’er
Countless
Hearts,
Bloom
Poppies in the
Sacred
Color of
Vibrant red.
On this same
Day in a
Late autumn
Garden,
Blooms in
Solidarity a pink
Daisy,
Affirming in
Remembrance
There is no
Death…
Asking Judith
Click for meditationRegarding "Asking Judith"
In this poem, the daisies in
My rock garden speak, and they ask
A woman of quiet gardening
Renown to identify whether their
Blooms are Shasta, Sheffield, or Montauk?
All three of these daisy varieties
Are similar, and are a staple of
Autumn, and provide in their wonderful
Faces one last look at the
Fading warmth of the sun.
It is as if the beauty of fall clings
To their petals, and these
Dainty flowers smile for all they
Are worth…as if they
Think if they band together
And try hard enough —
They might even push back
The cold, which otherwise
For winter would place in cocoon
Their gentle souls…!
Leo Carroll
November 1, 2018
We defer to you, if you
Were to kindly agree, to discern
The proper name of our
Pretty, little daisies…
We believe we are Shasta, but
Sheffield and Montauk
Look like us, too, so if you
Would examine our leaves,
Perhaps you could settle
The lineage of our bloom…?
We’re not asking, though, that
You gage the quality of
Our autumnal beauty, because
Along this garden wall,
Our petals already reign
Supreme with their pink and
White heavenly purity…
Pink and White
Click for meditationRegarding "Pink and White"
I used to believe
A pilgrim’s path was
Composed of life events and
Challenges to “round”
The “rough edges” off of
A person, much like
A sand grain lying on the
Beach and being bathed by
Tidal flows, and as part
Of this marathon trek, a
Person could learn
And be taught…
The older I get, though, I
Have come to believe
A pilgrim’s path is meant
To be far more…that a
Pilgrim’s path is also comprised
Of steppingstones of comfort
And Beauty, and it is these
Latter two which can help
A person to persevere
And live a more peaceful life.
In short, a pilgrim’s journey
Is not just about being
Re-shaped and smoothed
By the events of life,
But by being helped and
Guided along the way by
The simple gifts of Creation —
Such as pink and white shasta daisies
On an autumn morning
Along a stone wall…
Leo Carroll
October 26, 2018
Could I
Meander along a
Prettier pilgrim’s path
Than this?
Could my eyes
Open
Any wider,
Lest any pink and
White beauty
Along this stone wall
I miss?
Ode to Shasta Daisies
Click for meditationRegarding "Ode to Shasta Daisies"
As I meander
Along the curves of my
Rock garden’s
Wall, I come
Up’n a flock of
Long-legged shasta
Daisies, which
Ebb and flow like
A cleansing tide with
Whitest foam.
How peaceful they are,
How remarkable
In ability to soothe
The fray, how
Almost ignored,
Because who would
Expect their
Thin stalks to be
Able to bind
What makes afraid!
Leo Carroll
October 23, 2018
I would
Love to sleep
Amongst
You,
My duty
Finally
Come to
Rest,
My covers
Pulled
Up around
Me, and
Your
Wondrous
White
The sentry
I could
Depend.
Morning
Click for meditationRegarding "Morning"
I was sitting on a barstool
At the kitchen counter, and beside
Me was one of my little
Granddaughters. She was
Spending the day with us, and her
Visit was starting out with
A bowl of oatmeal and
Some toast. She noticed two
Roses which I had picked
The day before from my garden,
And she reached forward
To touch them, or better
Described, to caress them.
What a gentle moment
In a world which is filled with
Such beautiful events – if
Only we would notice them!
Gifts or blessings are
Given to us constantly, and
All that is required of us is to
“See” them and to
Accept them. Creation
Works in ways which are not
Our ways…we are
Given much in our Pilgrim’s
Walk to soften the
Calluses on our feet.
Leo Carroll
June 28, 2018
Two
Garden
Roses
Red and pink, a
Little girl’s
Inquiring fingers
Feeling
Them and
Caressing…a
Porridge
Bowl and its
Purple
Spoon set to
The side,
And love,
Sweet
Love, at
Breakfast to
Abide.