74 Garden Poems to Enjoy Nature’s Precious Givings

Welcome to the world of garden poems, where nature’s beauty is celebrated through the power of words.

Discover a variety of poems on gardens, from the famous to the funny, the inspirational to the rhyming.

Let’s explore short and long poems that capture the essence of a garden’s beauty and its impact on our lives.

Together we can take delight in children’s garden poems that spark the imagination and modern garden poems that offer a fresh perspective.

So dive into these poems on garden about the warmth of sunlight and the joy of being surrounded by nature’s precious giving.

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Funny Garden Poems

Laughter is simply enjoyable, and what better way to enjoy your garden than with some interesting poems about garden that will make you smile and chuckle?

1. Garden of Tales

       by Catherine Pulsifer

A funny garden of tales,
Is a place of surprise,
A colorful mixture
Of plants, insects, more do arise.

The pollinators delight
As they hover and flit with glee,
Butterflies, bees, and hummingbirds too,
With joy and enthusiasm, they are free!

2. Panic in the Vegetable Garden

       by Elton Camp

The carrot turned from yellow to pale
“Danger!” it called out to the kale

The tomato gaped in great fear
“Caution broccoli, they’re here.”

Mushroom whispered to the squash,
“Beware for they’re here to nosh.”

Pumpkin felt of his hard shell
“If they touch me, I’ll yell.”

“Oh horrors!” said the peas
“How we hate such as these.”

Why did the veggies begin to shout?
Because vegans were roving about!

3. What’s Planted?

       by Catherine Pulsifer

A funny story I will tell
About the garden where I dwell
I planted some seeds under the sun
Much to my surprise, what had I done?

Tomato seeds? Nope, that won’t do
Can’t possibly grow a cucumber too!
No matter what I was hoping for in my head
What’s planted will grow, that’s been said.

4. Vacumns and Garden Hoses

       by Deb M

Vacumns and Garden hoses
What can I say ….?
Well, they are the bane of my life
With their temperamental ways

Both are stubborn with a mind of their own
Needing to control the situation
They both catch, kink and “just”stop
Heightening annoyance and frustration

No matter how hard i try
Without success or luck
To not let irritation get the better of me
Preventing me yelling out F**k !!

5. A Trail of Destruction

       by Jan Allison

A snail has thousands of teeth
No wonder it is such a thief
It gobbles my plants
You should hear my rants
Slug pellets will give some relief!

6. After Love

       by Keith Dobbie

once there grew a garden green for my love
with roses blooming and a turtle dove,
now my love has gone,
and there grows only the thorn

7. Gardening Time, Everybody

       by Viv Wigley

Gardening time, everybody
Now that spring has arrived on the scene
to get out in the garden I’m keen
can’t let one more day pass
without cutting the grass
since the light through my window is green!

8. There Are Fairies at The Bottom of My Garden

       by John Fenn

There are Fairies at the bottom of my garden
And they visit every evening, for a dance
They are lovely to behold and very welcome
I just wish they didn’t trample on my plants

Their favourite dance appears to be the Salsa
They do it with such style and aplomb
Much better than last week when they were jivin’
It appeared they’d hit the garden with a bomb

So I do believe in Fairies, ‘cos I’ve seen them
And every night I watch them, in a trance
They are graceful and delightful and enchanting
“Oi, Tinkerbell, get off my bloody plants”

9. My Herb Garden

       by Barbara Gorelick

My blue terraced pot is alive this year,
Growing basil, chives, oregano and sage.
It sits on my patio in the filtered sun,
Ready for creative culinary inspiration……
Maybe after I finish this glass of wine.

Famous Garden Poems

Several famous poets from around the world have contributed towards the garden poetry. Here are some of those famous poems about garden for you.

1. Garden Shadows

       by Bliss Carman

When the dawn winds whisper
To the standing corn,
And the rose of morning
From the dark is born,
All my shadowy garden
Seems to grow aware
Of a fragrant presence,
Half expected there.
In the golden shimmer
Of the burning noon,
When the birds are silent,
And the poppies swoon,
Once more I behold her
Smile and turn her face,
With its infinite regard,
Its immortal grace.
When the twilight silvers
Every nodding flower,
And the new moon hallows
The first evening hour,
Is it not her footfall
Down the garden walks,
Where the drowsy blossoms
Slumber on their stalks?
In the starry quiet,
When the soul is free,
And a vernal message
Stirs the lilac tree,
Surely I have felt her
Pass and brush my cheek,
With the eloquence of love
That does not need to speak!

2. The Garden of Saint Rose

       by Bliss Carman

This is a holy refuge
The garden of Saint Rose
A fragrant altar to that peace
The world no longer knows.
Below a solemn hillside
Within the folding shade
Of overhanging beech and pine
Its walls and walks are laid.
Cool through the heat of summer,
Still as a sacred grove,
It has the rapt unworldly air
Of mystery and love.
All day before its outlook
The mist-blue mountains loom,
And in its trees at tranquil dusk
The early stars will bloom.
Down its enchanted borders
Glad ranks of color stand,
Like hosts of silent seraphim
Awaiting love’s command.
Lovely in adoration
They wait in patient line,
Snow-white and purple and deep gold
About the rose-gold shrine.
And there they guard the silence,
While still from her recess
Through sun and shade Saint Rose looks down
In mellow loveliness.
She seems to say, “O stranger,
Behold how loving care
That gives its life for beauty’s sake,
Makes everything more fair!
“Then praise the Lord of gardens
For tree and flower and vine,
And bless all gardeners who have wrought
A resting place like mine!”

3. In the Garden

       by Emily Dickinson

A bird came down the walk:
He did not know I saw;
He bit an angle-worm in halves
And ate the fellow, raw.

And then he drank a dew
From a convenient grass,
And then hopped sidewise to the wall
To let a beetle pass.

He glanced with rapid eyes
That hurried all abroad, —
They looked like frightened beads, I thought;
He stirred his velvet head

Like one in danger; cautious,
I offered him a crumb,
And he unrolled his feathers
And rowed him softer home

Than oars divide the ocean,
Too silver for a seam,
Or butterflies, off banks of noon,
Leap, plashless, as they swim.

4. The Garden Wasn’t a Garden

       by Annette Wynne

The garden wasn’t a garden,
It was a castle tall,
The trees were mighty turrets,
Ramparts, the garden wall.
The breeze was the lone piper
Playing a wild song,
And Freddie was the Black Knight
The afternoon long.
Then dark came to the castle
Around the piper’s head,
And Mother carried the Black Knight,
And put him safe to bed.

5. A Blade of Grass

       by Ruby Archer

A blade of grass is bending
Above the moaning stream,
In sympathy is blending
Where troubles only seem.
The waters have no sorrow,
Real anguish ne’er can know;
And yet the grass will borrow
And bear the waters’ woe.
It quivers with compassion
And quakes with foreign fears,
Then yields to loving passion,
And weeps the torrent’s tears.

6. End of March

       by Annette Wynne

What does the white world know
Of flowers eager to grow
Under the snow?
Do the brown limbs care
As they swing in the crisp clear air?
But O, little seed, you know,
Lying patiently so—
Head underground,
Only wait—the call will go round,
You’ll know the sound.
And O, the snow must go,
For you, little seed, are waiting to grow!
O, the joy to lift the head
Straight above the dark brown bed,
O, the joy to feel the tread
Of spring with skipping bare brave feet,
Down the warm, wet village street.
Ah, then the brown branches care
And try to touch her hair;
Streaming out in the new warm air,
And O, the sky is glad, and every brook and glen
For then,
The world begins all over again!

7. The Ivy Green

       by Charles Dickens

O, a dainty plant is the ivy green,
That creepeth o’er ruins old!
Of right choice food are his meals, I ween,
In his cell so lone and cold.
The walls must be crumbled, the stones decayed.
To pleasure his dainty whim;
And the mouldering dust that years have made
Is a merry meal for him.
Creeping where no life is seen,
A rare old plant is the ivy green.
Fast he stealeth on, though he wears no wings,
And a staunch old heart has he!
How closely he twineth, how tight he clings
To his friend, the huge oak tree!
And slyly he traileth along the ground,
And his leaves he gently waves,
And he joyously twines and hugs around
The rich mould of dead men’s graves.
Creeping where no life is seen,
A rare old plant is the ivy green.
Whole ages have fled, and their works decayed,
And nations have scattered been;
But the stout old ivy shall never fade
From its hale and hearty green.
The brave old plant in its lonely days
Shall fatten upon the past;
For the stateliest building man can raise
Is the ivy’s food at last.
Creeping where no life is seen,
A rare old plant is the ivy green.

8. An Evening Hour

       by Pearlyn

It was a sunny bright evening, an evening so calm,
The kind of evening that was inviting me with an outstretched arm.
So I decided to spend an hour doing almost nothing,
Sitting and enjoying the best of what nature could bring.
Getting up from my chair, I thought I’d take a stride
Then there was a bumble bee that suddenly came by my side.
There was a kind of music as the bee flapped its wing,
Music so perfect that no one could ever sing.
Walking little further, I spotted a butterfly
Which was hovering over the flowers and then soaring high
And I came to the conclusion as I was on my knees,
Not the richest of queens was dressed like one of these.
My evening hour in the garden was very well spent
And now I know what beauty and music really meant!!

9. A Garden Fair

       by Helen A. Fussell

I will sing you a song
Of a garden fair,
Wherein were sown seeds
That brought blossoms rare.

Love, joy and kindness,
And hearty good cheer,
Were the seeds that were sown
And flowered here.

The garden fair
Was a little child’s mind,
And the seeds were these thoughts,
Just the very best kind.

Inspirational Garden Poems

Gardens are not only beautiful places but also symbolize life, growth, and hope. These inspirational poems about garden will encourage and motivate you to appreciate nature’s blessings.

1. God’s Garden

       by Annette Wynne

God’s garden stretches far and wide,
With trees and birds on every side,
With sunshine all the summer day
So people may walk out and play,
And lanterns hanging through the night
To keep the pathways always bright;
God’s garden stretches near and far—
From my gate to the evening star.

2. The Formal Garden

       by Anonymous

Beyond its dignified border
Stretches the wildwood away;
Tangles of happy disorder,
Freely, triumphantly gay.
Here in a peace that is pleasant,
Studious, toilsomely fair,
Severe as a scholarly peasant,
Lies my Garden of Care.
Reaches of turf well watered,
Breath of a stately perfume;
Squares conscientiously quartered,
Ranked in regiment bloom;
Files of lilies and roses,
Bands of dahlia and phlox;
Hidden and intricate closes
Bound in a framework of box;
Walks with never a curving,
Juniper soldierly trim,
Modest air of deserving,
Smiling, and quiet,—and grim.
Who but must feel the calm gladness
Here holding militant sway?
And who could fall of the madness
To long to leap forth and away?
Ever I’ve toiled in its beauty
Since the bright years of a boy;
This difficult Garden of Duty,
Set in the Wildwood of Joy.

3. The Withered Rose-Tree

       by Peter Burn

I was walking through my garden,
On a sunny morn in May,
When I found a withered rose-tree,
Careless hands had thrown away.
So I took it, and re-set it—
For its nature well I knew—
And each day I fondly nurs’d it,
Till it struck its roots and grew.
Soon the rose-tree, once so fragile,
Threw out branches fresh and strong,
Oft as bow’r it served the linnet,
Pouring to his mate his song.
Summer came, in all its fulness,
And the garden-bloom grew fair,
But the rose-tree, crown’d with beauty,
Shone the queen of flowers there.

4. Inside My Garden Gate

       by Susan C Walkinshaw-Kelly

How I love my little garden, where I sit and contemplate.
My perfect piece of paradise inside my garden gate.
Hanging baskets, pretty pots, the flowers are brimming over.
The grass so green, the buttercups, the daisies, and the clover.

Honeysuckle and jasmine giving off its sweet perfume.
Pretty lilies open wide, rose bushes in full bloom.
In summer they stand tall and proud as the buds turn into flowers.
I sit and watch as they all flourish and while away the hours.

I see the little fledglings nesting high up in the trees.
Bees in and out the bushes with their variegated leaves,
Where they gather all the pollen, then soar into the sky.
They’re heading home at speed, returning to the hive.

The melody of the wind chimes as they tinkle in the breeze
Interwoven with gossamer cobwebs, at night the spider weaves.
The sunshine sparkles on the pond where the water lilies grow.
Golden fish and tadpoles swimming safely down below.

It’s all so very peaceful relaxing in the sun
Where the butterflies flutter by having so much fun.
The sun goes down and darkness falls, the moon is big and bold,
Where all that live in the garden have a story to be told.

The little gnomes are watching the pixies and the sprites
Dancing by the wishing well, aglow with fairy lights.
I can sit here contemplating until it’s very late
In this magical piece of paradise, inside my garden gate.

5. Putting in the Seed

       by Robert Frost

You come to fetch me from my work to-night
When supper’s on the table, and we’ll see
If I can leave off burying the white
Soft petals fallen from the apple tree.
(Soft petals, yes, but not so barren quite,
Mingled with these, smooth bean and wrinkled pea;)
And go along with you were you lose sight
Of what you came for and become like me,
Slave to a springtime passion for the earth.
How Love burns through the Putting in the Seed
On through the watching for that early birth
When, just as the soil tarnishes with weed,
The sturdy seedling with arched body comes
Shouldering its way and shedding the earth crumbs.

6. Summer Glory

       by Annette Wynne

Is it true
That you
Are indeed
The shriveled seed
In spring I buried underground
Not a bit of green around?
Now you are
Full of light
As a star;
Out of night
Came this glory—grew to this
Little piece of perfect bliss;
O the joy to know
I helped you grow;
What mighty one would not be
Small helper in such glorious ministry!

7. My Garden Is My Sanctuary

       by Marie Church

As I look out to my garden
I feel a sense of pride.
It really is a lovely room
except it is outside.

Where lovely things mix and match
and greenery fills the walls
the sound of trickling water
coming from the gold fish pond.

I love the sight of stones and rocks
and driftwood and tree ferns too
the sounds of all my chimes
i know you would like it too.

With pride I walk around my garden
and savour each scent and smell,
colours of yellow, red and gold
striped cushion on a bench.

The bird bath has its own domain.
It’s placed beside a wooden arch
where all the birds come to bathe
and drink when they are parched.

Ladybirds can hide away
sometimes they come out to see
what’s happening around them
with caterpillars and the bees.

There’s not much more that I can say
except if you have your own
it won’t take long to build it up
seeds will bloom once they are sown.

8. My Sunset Garden

       by Althea Randolph

The rainbow hues at eventide
Are flowers in the sky.
Which bud and blossom one by one
Up in my Garden high.

The Violet lifts her modest head
And looks the wide world through.
Then quickly comes the dainty bloom,
Forget-me-not of blue.

Glad Marigold and Roses red.
With emerald leaves about.
Chase Dandelion and Mignonette,
While Clovers pink peep out!

Next Mister Dusk-man wanders forth
With his great cloak of gray
And covers up my pretty flowers,
And hides them all away!

But well I know when night is gone,
And day-time hours fly by,
That once again my flowers bright
Will blossom in the sky!

9. What A Joy

       by Catherine Pulsifer

Oh what a joy it is to tend my garden daily
To look about and see new life take shape like crazy.
Every day there’s something new, I’ll never tire
My garden supplies a wide selection that always inspires.

I may pick a juicy melon, or an eggplant so small
Perhaps some ripe tomatoes or crunchy green peas to enthrall.
I’ve come up with endless options of what I might savor
Be it sweet, or spicy, these veggies are full of flavor!

Short Garden Poems

You can now enjoy the serenity of a beautiful blossoming garden with these short poetries about garden that you can read anytime, anywhere.

1. New Feet Within My Garden Go

       by Emily Dickinson

New feet within my garden go,
New fingers stir the sod;
A troubadour upon the elm
Betrays the solitude.

New children play upon the green,
New weary sleep below;
And still the pensive spring returns,
And still the punctual snow!

2. The Lady Has a Garden

       by Annette Wynne

The lady has a garden wide,
With great stone walls on either side,
And every flower that grows is there—
But—what does the lady care!
My garden is so very small,
It needs no fence, it needs no wall;
It’s but one tiny plant—that’s all!
And yet I tend it with a will—
My garden is my window sill!

3. Clod of the Earth

       by Anna Hempstead Branch

Clod of the earth, that hardly knows
How the warm sun comes or the cold rain goes,
That lieth dumb and bleak and bare,
It was thy thought begat the rose.

4. Essential Oils Are Wrung:

       by Emily Dickinson

Essential oils are wrung:
The attar from the rose
Is not expressed by suns alone,
It is the gift of screws.

The general rose decays;
But this, in lady’s drawer,
Makes summer when the lady lies
In ceaseless rosemary.

5. The Tryst

       by John B. Tabb

Potato was deep in the dark under ground,
Tomato, above in the light.
The little Tomato was ruddy and round,
The little Potato was white.
And redder and redder she rounded above,
And paler and paler he grew,
And neither suspected a mutual love
Till they met in a Brunswick stew.

6. A Garden Is

       by William Arthur Ward

A garden is a lovely place,
Where seeds burst through the sod,
A garden is a partnership,
Between two hands and God.

A garden is a restful place,
Where gentle breezes blow. . .
A family of growing things,
Where souls can also grow.

7. Arbutus

       by Adelaide Crapsey

Not Spring’s
Thou art, but her’s,
Most cool, most virginal,
Winter’s, with thy faint breath, thy snows

8. A Beauty to Behold

       by Catherine Pulsifer

Gardens, a beauty to behold,
Flowers that come from deep in the soil unfold,
The colors of pink, lavender, and yellow,
The beauty has stopped many a fellow.

Peace and serenity are what it brings,
The garden even makes the birds sing.
Walking through the garden in bloom
Can help take away any gloom.

9. Etiquette

       by John B. Tabb

“I Long,” said the new-gathered Lettuce,
“To meet our illustrious guest.”
Cried the Caster, “Such haste
Is in very bad taste:
See first that you’re properly dressed.”

Long Garden Poems

If you prefer details, you can delve deeper into the beauty of the garden by enjoying these long poetries about garden.

1. Strawberries

       by John Townsend Trowbridge

Little Pearl Honeydew, six years old,
From her bright ear parted the curls of gold;
And laid her head on the strawberry bed,
To hear what the red-cheeked berries said.
Their cheeks were blushing, their breath was sweet,
She could almost hear their little hearts beat;
And the tiniest, lisping, whispering sound
That ever you heard, came up from the ground.
“Little friends,” she said, “I wish I knew
How it is you thrive on sun and dew!”
And this is the story the berries told
To little Pearl Honeydew, six years old.
“You wish you knew? And so do we.
But we can’t tell you, unless it be
That the same Kind Power that cares for you
Takes care of poor little berries, too.
“Tucked up snugly, and nestled below
Our coverlid of wind-woven snow,
We peep and listen, all winter long,
For the first spring day and the bluebird’s song.
“When the swallows fly home to the old brown shed,
And the robins build on the bough overhead,
Then out from the mold, from the darkness and cold,
Blossom and runner and leaf unfold.
“Good children, then, if they come near,
And hearken a good long while, may hear
A wonderful tramping of little feet,—
So fast we grow in the summer heat.
“Our clocks are the flowers; and they count the hours
Till we can mellow in suns and showers,
With warmth of the west wind and heat of the south,
A ripe red berry for a ripe red month.
“Apple blooms whiten, and peach blooms fall,
And roses are gay by the garden wall,
Ere the daisy’s dial gives the sign
That we may invite little Pearl to dine.
“The days are longest, the month is June,
The year is nearing its golden noon,
The weather is fine, and our feast is spread
With a green cloth and berries red.
“Just take us betwixt your finger and thumb,
And quick, oh, quick! for, see! there come
Tom on all fours, and Martin the man,
And Margaret, picking as fast as they can.
“Oh, dear! if you only knew how it shocks
Nice berries like us to be sold by the box,
And eaten by strangers, and paid for with pelf,
You would surely take pity, and eat us yourself!”
And this is the story the small lips told
To dear Pearl Honeydew, six years old,
When she laid her head on the strawberry bed
To hear what the red-cheeked berries said.

2. Garden Magic

       by Bliss Carman

Within my stone-walled garden
(I see her standing now,
Uplifted in the twilight,
With glory on her brow!)
I love to walk at evening
And watch, when winds are low,
The new moon in the tree-tops,
Because she loved it so!
And there entranced I listen,
While flowers and winds confer,
And all their conversation
Is redolent of her.
I love the trees that guard it,
Upstanding and serene,
So noble, so undaunted,
Because that was her mien.
I love the brook that bounds it,
Because its silver voice
Is like her bubbling laughter
That made the world rejoice.
I love the golden jonquils,
Because she used to say,
If soul could choose a color
It would be clothed as they.
I love the blue-gray iris,
Because her eyes were blue,
Sea-deep and heaven-tender
In meaning and in hue.
I love the small wild roses,
Because she used to stand
Adoringly above them
And bless them with her hand.
These were her boon companions.
But more than all the rest
I love the April lilac,
Because she loved it best.
Soul of undying rapture!
How love’s enchantment clings,
With sorcery and fragrance,
About familiar things!

3. My Stalk of Corn

       by Ellen P. Allerton

Just a single stalk of corn,
Nothing more;
Was there ever a stalk of corn
Cherished so before?
On the window, where the sun
Shines at noon,
And at eve, the tender light
Of the moon.
Half a pint or so of soil—
Hardly that,
Half enough to till the crown
Of baby’s hat.
This is it has to feed its life;
This is is all.
Yet I love this stalk of corn
Best of all.
Best of all my pets in green
Thou a vine,
By geraniums scented sweet,
Doth entwine.
And I pet it tenderly,
This stalk of corn—
Turn it kindly toward the pane
Every morn.
How it thanks me for its life,
How it grows!
In such thrift, its gratitude
How it shows.
Still I watch and water it,
Though I know,
The slender store of food it has
Is wasting slow.
Never shall the breezes wane
Its yellow hair;
Never tassle crown its top,
Nor golden ear.
Just so much it has to feed,
Then must die;
Who knows but that it may be so
With you or I?
We know not our stock of life,
Great or small;
But the one who keepeth us
Knoweth all.
We live on, a careless life,
Or fiercely toil.
While our only store may be
Half a pint of soil.
Let us, like this stalk of corn,
Do our best,
And to him who loveth us
Leave the rest.

4. Lines to a Garden Hose

       by Anonymous

Sprinkle, sprinkle, little hose
(You can’t help it, I suppose);
The unsodded, fruitful dirt,
Sodden with thy sudden squirt!
Squirt and sprinkle gentle hose
Drowning less torrential woes
Giving merry worms their drink
Softly squirtle sweetly sprink
As in other larger floods
Rainbows glint thy fertile muds
So assured of final calm
Through thy nozzle pour thy balm
Make the sidewalk and the street
Moist for parched and weary feet
Keep thy rivulets a flow
Tripping each fantastic toe
Seek thy brethren on the limb
Fetching them into the swim
Till as each doth pass the fence
Scattering his eloquence
Uttereth each a single note
Like thee from his liquid throat
And the idlest as she goes
Darns the customary hose
Then thy simple duty done
Quit as erstwhile quits the sun
With the other hoes to bed
Coiling in thy shadowy shed
Gardeners proclaim thy praise
Children love thy childlike ways
May we like them learn from thee

5. My Garden

       by Anonymous

My Garden is a special place, and so near and dear to my heart.
So in the early morning there, I watch the new day start.

The flowers nod their sleepy heads to shake the morning dew,
And then the sun peeps shyly up to climb a sky of blue.

The birds wake up and start to sing, a happy little song.
They’ll build their nests and lay their eggs, it won’t take very long.

I look at the rocks in my garden; I’ve found them far and wide,
From the desert sand to the ocean shore, and on the mountain side.

And I look too at a bird house that hangs up in my tree,
I think of the one who bought it, and hung it there for me.

My Cactus all are blooming now, in colors bright and fair,
And in my garden I find peace, and shed my every care.

As summer nears, the days grow long, I still my vigil keep,
I walk now in the evening cool, as the world prepares to sleep.

The butterflies are sleeping now, insects no longer hum,
They’re resting and they are waiting, for the new day to come.

The days now start to shorten, but Mocking Birds still sing,
My garden waits for Autumn and the changes she will bring.

As summer’s flowers fade away, and hardy Mums now bloom,
My garden is like a newly redecorated room.

The trees are dressed in colors now, so lovely and so bright,
The one that’s in my garden is a truly splendid sight.

The bird bath has no bathers now; the birds sought warmer climes,
The breezes play a melody on gently swinging chimes.

The pelting rain is colder now; the leaves float from the trees.
As winter blows across the land, it’s breath a chilly breeze.

Azaleas all are budding now; the Jade plants start to bloom,
So in my precious garden, there never can be a gloom.

My garden now will take a nap, and dream of coming spring,
Knowing well the loveliness and magic it will bring.

6. The Voice of the Grass

       by Sarah Roberts Boyle

Here I come, creeping, creeping, everywhere;
By the dusty roadside,
On the sunny hillside,
Close by the noisy brook,
In every shady nook,
I come creeping, creeping, everywhere.
Here I come, creeping, creeping everywhere;
All round the open door,
Where sit the aged poor,
Here where the children play,
In the bright and merry May,
I come creeping, creeping, everywhere.
Here I come, creeping, creeping, everywhere;
You can not see me coming,
Nor hear my low, sweet humming,
For in the starry night,
And the glad morning light,
I come, quietly creeping, everywhere.
Here I come, creeping, creeping, everywhere;
More welcome than the flowers,
In summer’s pleasant hours;
The gentle cow is glad,
And the merry birds not sad,
To see me creeping, creeping, everywhere.
Here I come, creeping, creeping, everywhere;
When you’re numbered with the dead,
In your still and narrow bed,
In the happy spring I’ll come,
And deck your narrow home,
Creeping, silently creeping, everywhere.
Here I come, creeping, creeping, everywhere;
My humble song of praise,
Most gratefully I raise,
To Him at whose command
I beautify the land,
Creeping, silently creeping, everywhere.

7. The Garden

       by Andrew Marvell

How vainly men themselves amaze
To win the palm, the oak, or bays,
And their uncessant labours see
Crown’d from some single herb or tree,
Whose short and narrow verged shade
Does prudently their toils upbraid;
While all flow’rs and all trees do close
To weave the garlands of repose.

Fair Quiet, have I found thee here,
And Innocence, thy sister dear!
Mistaken long, I sought you then
In busy companies of men;
Your sacred plants, if here below,
Only among the plants will grow.
Society is all but rude,
To this delicious solitude.

No white nor red was ever seen
So am’rous as this lovely green.
Fond lovers, cruel as their flame,
Cut in these trees their mistress’ name;
Little, alas, they know or heed
How far these beauties hers exceed!
Fair trees! wheres’e’er your barks I wound,
No name shall but your own be found.

When we have run our passion’s heat,
Love hither makes his best retreat.
The gods, that mortal beauty chase,
Still in a tree did end their race:
Apollo hunted Daphne so,
Only that she might laurel grow;
And Pan did after Syrinx speed,
Not as a nymph, but for a reed.

What wond’rous life in this I lead!
Ripe apples drop about my head;
The luscious clusters of the vine
Upon my mouth do crush their wine;
The nectarine and curious peach
Into my hands themselves do reach;
Stumbling on melons as I pass,
Ensnar’d with flow’rs, I fall on grass.

Meanwhile the mind, from pleasure less,
Withdraws into its happiness;
The mind, that ocean where each kind
Does straight its own resemblance find,
Yet it creates, transcending these,
Far other worlds, and other seas;
Annihilating all that’s made
To a green thought in a green shade.

Here at the fountain’s sliding foot,
Or at some fruit tree’s mossy root,
Casting the body’s vest aside,
My soul into the boughs does glide;
There like a bird it sits and sings,
Then whets, and combs its silver wings;
And, till prepar’d for longer flight,
Waves in its plumes the various light.

Such was that happy garden-state,
While man there walk’d without a mate;
After a place so pure and sweet,
What other help could yet be meet!
But ’twas beyond a mortal’s share
To wander solitary there:
Two paradises ’twere in one
To live in paradise alone.

How well the skillful gard’ner drew
Of flow’rs and herbs this dial new,
Where from above the milder sun
Does through a fragrant zodiac run;
And as it works, th’ industrious bee
Computes its time as well as we.
How could such sweet and wholesome hours
Be reckon’d but with herbs and flow’rs!

Garden Poems That Rhyme

Rhyming poems can add a musical quality to your reading experience, and these poems about garden with rhyming words will take you on a journey through the sights, smells, and sounds of the garden.

1. The Gardener

       by Robert Louis Stevenson

The gardener does not love to talk,
He makes me keep the gravel walk;
And when he puts his tools away,
He locks the door and takes the key.
Away behind the currant row
Where no one else but cook may go,
Far in the plots, I see him dig,
Old and serious, brown and big.
He digs the flowers, green, red, and blue,
Nor wishes to be spoken to.
He digs the flowers and cuts the hay,
And never seems to want to play.
Silly gardener! summer goes,
And winter comes with pinching toes,
When in the garden bare and brown
You must lay your barrow down.
Well now, and while the summer stays,
To profit by these garden days
O how much wiser you would be
To play at Indian wars with me!

2. The Garden Year

       by Sara Coleridge

January brings the snow,
Makes our feet and fingers glow.
February brings the rain,
Thaws the frozen lake again.
March brings breezes, loud and shrill,
To stir the dancing daffodil.
April brings the primrose sweet,
Scatters daisies at our feet.
May brings flocks of pretty lambs
Skipping by their fleecy dams.
June brings tulips, lilies, roses,
Fills the children’s hands with posies.
Hot July brings cooling showers,
Apricots, and gillyflowers.
August brings the sheaves of corn,
Then the harvest home is borne.
Warm September brings the fruit;
Sportsmen then begin to shoot.
Fresh October brings the pheasant;
Then to gather nuts is pleasant.
Dull November brings the blast;
Then the leaves are whirling fast.
Chill December brings the sleet,
Blazing fire, and Christmas treat.

3. Thistle Down

       by Kate Slaughter Mckinney

I saw a little child one day
Blowing some thistle down away.
How light they flew! The wings of thought
Grew weary as their course was sought,
And e’en the boy, with heart as light,
Sighed when he failed to trace their flight;
But as by chance, out of the air,
One fell upon his sunny hair.
I saw the tiny sail unfurl,
And faintly fan a slender curl.
A fairy’s boat it seemed to be,
And yet a pirate sailed the sea,
And anchored on a golden wave
That hid no evil deed—no grave.
That thought! Did Heaven foresee the doom?
From off his curl I shook the bloom.
I know not where it chanced to fall,
In garden, park, or castle wall;
A desert’s sand may scorch its root,
A crystal brook it may pollute;
A different course from mine it took,
And I the path at once forsook.
I only know that summer day,
Far from the child ’twas blown away.

4. In the Garden

       by Ernest Crosby

I spied beside the garden bed
A tiny lass of ours,
Who stopped and bent her sunny head
Above the red June flowers.
Pushing the leaves and thorns apart,
She singled out a rose,
And in its inmost crimson heart,
Enraptured, plunged her nose.
“O dear, dear rose, come, tell me true—
Come, tell me true,” said she,
“If I smell just as sweet to you
As you smell sweet to me!”

5. Little Rain

       by Elizabeth Madox Roberts

When I was making myself a game
Up in the garden, a little rain came.
It fell down quick in a sort of rush,
And I crawled back under the snowball bush.
I could hear the big drops hit the ground
And see little puddles of dust fly round.
A chicken came till the rain was gone;
He had just a very few feathers on.
He shivered a little under his skin,
And then he shut his eyeballs in.
Even after the rain had begun to hush
It kept on raining up in the bush.
One big flat drop came sliding down,
And a ladybug that was red and brown
Was up on a little stem waiting there,
And I got some rain in my hair.

6. March and April

       by Annette Wynne

Stay in, stay in, O flowers, stay in,
Spring can’t begin, it can’t begin!
For wild rough March rides all about,
Don’t put your little noses out;
Small heads should keep safe under ground,
Or March will catch you riding round.
Come out, come out, O flowers, come out!
Wild March is gone with rush and shout,
And April’s eager now to play,
Come out, for March rode far away,
And Spring is dancing all around!
Come up, dear seeds, above the ground!

7. The Power of Botany

       by Eliza and Sarah Wolcott

Selected from luxuriant groves,
In folds of rich perfume,
From wilds where skilful knowledge roves,
And holds her conquering plume.

8. Le Jardin

       by Oscar Wilde

The lily’s withered chalice falls
Around its rod of dusty gold,
And from the beech-trees on the wold
The last wood-pigeon coos and calls.
The gaudy leonine sunflower
Hangs black and barren on its stalk,
And down the windy garden walk
The dead leaves scatter,—hour by hour.
Pale privet-petals white as milk
Are blown into a snowy mass:
The roses lie upon the grass
Like little shreds of crimson silk.

Garden Poems for Kids

Children are curious and imaginative, and what better way to introduce them to the wonders of nature than with garden children’s poems about garden specially written for them?

1. The Little Plant on the Window Speaks

       by Annette Wynne

If you had let me stay all winter long outside,
Long, long ago, I should have died.
And so I’ll live for you and keep
A little summer while the others sleep—
A little summer on your window-sill—
I’ll be your growing garden spot until
The rough winds go away,
And great big gardens call you out to play.

2. My Garden

       by Anonymous

I’ll plant it with care,
Here are the seeds
I’ll plant in there,
The sun will shine,
The rain will fall,
The seeds will sprout and grow up tall.

3. Fern Song

       by John B. Tabb

Dance to the beat of the rain, little Fern,
And spread out your palms again,
And say, “Tho’ the sun
Hath my vesture spun,
He had laboured, alas, in vain,
But for the shade
That the Cloud hath made,
And the gift of the Dew and the Rain.”
Then laugh and upturn
All your fronds, little Fern,
And rejoice in the beat of the rain!

4. We Have a Little Garden

       by Beatrix Potter

We have a little garden,
A garden of our own,
And every day we water there
The seeds that we have sown.
We love our little garden,
And tend it with such care,
You will not find a faded leaf
Or blighted blossom there.

5. Garden Under Lightning

       by Leonora Speyer

Out of the storm that muffles shining night
Flash roses ghastly-sweet,
And lilies far too pale.
There is a pang of livid light,
A terror of familiarity,
I see a dripping swirl of leaves and petals
That I once tended happily,
Borders of flattened, frightened little things,
And writhing paths I surely walked in that other life—

My specter-garden beckons to me,
Gibbers horribly—
And vanishes!

6. The Process of Growth

       by Catherine Pulsifer

Sow some seeds, inside a pot or in a plot
With time and care, sprout they ought.
They drink the sunshine, they eat the rain
In the garden, your work is not in vain.

Be sure to water, plants need their share
Lace them with love, be patient and aware
The process of growth you cannot rush
Be patient and soon you’ll have a garden of lush.

7. Blue-Eyed Grass of May

       by Annette Wynne

Star, high star, far in the blue,
I have stars more near than you,
Shining from the blue-eyed grass,
Peeping at me as I pass.
Star, high star, far in the blue,
I wish that I could pick you, too,
I know I’d love you better, star,
If you were not so high and far.
My little friendly stars are found
Right close to me upon the ground;
You shine all night, they shine all day-
They are the blue-eyed grass of May!

8. Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary

       by Anonymous

Mary, Mary, quite contrary
How does your garden grow?
With silver bells and cockle shells
And pretty maids all in a row.

9. Hard Work

       by Catherine Pulsifer

I planted some seeds all around,
By the flowers and on the ground.

I lovingly tended them each day,
But they never seemed to grow my way.

I sang songs of encouragement but still,
My plants refused to grow even after I tilled.

Finally, I gave up in frustration
And realized I needed a vacation.

Being a gardener requires hard work,
It’s not just a fly-by-night perk.

Modern Garden Poems

As times change, so does the language and style of poetry. These modern garden poems reflect contemporary life and themes, bringing fresh perspectives to the garden.

1. Garden Dusk

       by Grace Hazard Conkling

This stillness made of azure
And veiled with lavender
Must be my daylight garden
Where all the pigeons were!
Blue dusk upon my eyelids,
Your drifting moods disclose
The moth that is a flower,
The wings that are a rose.
Make haste, exhale your sweetness,
For you must vanish soon:
The garden will forget you
At rising of the moon.
A glory dawns predestined
Of old to banish you
And bind you fast with rainbows
In dungeons of the dew.
And who will then remember
Your cool and gossamer art?
Ah, never moon may exile
Your beauty from my heart!

2. A Garden Reverie

       by Anonymous

In my garden I sit and stare,
if weeds are there, do I care?
I am lost in a reverie,
focused on my apple tree.

The tree proudly waves blooming boughs,
high to caress passing clouds.
Her fruit with their rosy faces,
will go to other places.

She will lose her leaves in winter,
her bark may begin to splinter,
but her summer will come again,
and deep-rooted she will remain.

And me? I hope most sincerely,
that like the old apple tree,
I will stand firm, and tall and strong,
regardless of what comes along.

3. The Grass

       by Emily Dickinson

The grass so little has to do, —
A sphere of simple green,
With only butterflies to brood,
And bees to entertain,

And stir all day to pretty tunes
The breezes fetch along,
And hold the sunshine in its lap
And bow to everything;

And thread the dews all night, like pearls,
And make itself so fine, —
A duchess were too common
For such a noticing.

And even when it dies, to pass
In odors so divine,
As lowly spices gone to sleep,
Or amulets of pine.

And then to dwell in sovereign barns,
And dream the days away, —
The grass so little has to do,
I wish I were the hay!

4. My Garden

       by Anonymous

My little garden is truly the best.
Among the flowers and trees I like to rest.
My garden is like paradise,
For little bees and butterflies.
The sparrows chirp merrily,
And I sing happily.
The huge Gulmohar tree sways gently.
Lovely are my little rose beds.
I like to watch the daffodils,
Nod their heads.
I water my plants everyday.
To start your day it is the best way.
I like my garden very much.
I feel as though she,
Has been given God’s touch.

5. Nature

       by Aina Nurnadira

See the maple leaves scatter on the grass.
The flowers are blooming bright and beautifully.
Hearing the birds chirping happily.
Like a sweet precious melody.

Lying on the grass and watching the blue skies.
I can see a shape of cotton candy up above the fluffy cloud so high.
The wind blows gently, I can feel it nicely.
The bright sunshine, bringing me to peace.
While enjoying the nature beautifully.

6. In the Garden of Weedin’

       by Dale Harkness

As I sat in the shade, what did I spy?
A weed sprouting up, with mischievous intent.
Pull it and stomp it, destroy it I did.
Certainly it’s gone I thought to myself,
as I plopped down to enjoy the afternoon breeze.

Before I could lean back, up they did pop,
a handful of those nasty green garden sneak thieves.
Pull ’em and stomp ’em, destroy ’em I did.
This time I got and I got good!

Back to the tree for a hasty retreat,
to drink a cold beer and relax in the shade.
I opened a brew and sat myself down,
Wanting to lounge and do nothing of measure.
As I gazed at the garden, what did I see?
Why dozens more weeds, all growing sky high!

Curse you vile weeds! Out of my patch!
I pull you and cut you from my green habitat!
I pulled and I cut, but this time I waited,
to see if those weeds would try to grow back.
Not one weed did show so I let out a shout,
I beat you I did, the last word is mine.

Turning to go back to the cool shady spot,
My eyes, they took in, an unbelievable sight.
There, under my tree, grew thousands of weeds,
Who drank down my beer and laughed heartily,
The war is not over, it’s only begun,
More of our kin will sprout up each time.

7. Garden of Gold

       by Lois E. Felder

I walk through the garden
On this warm summer’s day,
To smell the flowers
That grandma raised.

In the middle
Of this garden of gold,
Stood this one,
Single red stem rose.
The rose means so many things,
From the ones you receive on your wedding day,
To the one you get on Valentine’s Day,
But this single rose standing here today
Represents the love grandma gave.

From the love she gave,
When she planted it that day,
To the love she gave us,
Each and every day,
So when you pass this garden of gold,
Remember the love that this rose holds.

Garden Poems about the Sunlight

The sun is the life force behind every garden, and these poems capture the beauty and warmth of sunlight as it filters through the leaves, illuminating the garden in its golden glow.

1. My Window Ivy

       by Mary Mapes Dodge

Over my window the ivy climbs;
Its roots are in homely jars,
But all day long it looks at the sun,
And at night looks out at the stars.

The dust of the room may dim its green,
But I call to the breezy air:
“Come in, come in, good friend of mine!
And make my garden fair.”

So the ivy thrives from morn to morn,
Its leaves all turned to the light;
And it gladdens my soul with its tender green,
And teaches me day and night.

What though my lot is in lonely place,
And my spirit behind the bars?
All the long day I may look at the sun,
And at night look out at the stars.

What though the dust of earth would dim?
There’s a glorious outer air
That will sweep through my soul if I let it in,
And make it fresh and fair.

Dear God! let me grow from day to day,
Clinging and sunny and bright!
Though planted in shade, thy window is near,
And my leaves may turn to the light.

2. The Little Plant

       by Kate Brown

In the heart of a seed,
Buried deep, so deep,
A dear little plant
Lay fast asleep.
“Wake!” said the sunshine,
“And creep to the light.”
“Wake!” said the voice
Of the raindrops bright.
The little plant heard,
And it rose to see
What the wonderful
Outside world might be.

3. Making A Garden

       by Anonymous

Man plows and plants and digs and weeds;
He works with hoe and spade;
God sends the sun and rain and air,
And thus a garden’s made.

He must be proud who tills the soil
And turns the heavy sod:
How wonderful a thing to be
In partnership with God.

4. Here and Now

       by Bliss Carman

Where is Heaven? Is it not
Just a friendly garden plot,
Walled with stone and roofed with sun,
Where the days pass one by one,
Not too fast and not too slow,
Looking backward as they go
At the beauties left behind
To transport the pensive mind!
Is it not a greening ground
With a river for its bound,
And a wood-thrush to prolong
Fragrant twilights with his song,
When the peonies in June
Wait the rising of the moon,
And the music of the stream
Voices its immortal dream!
There each morning will renew
The miracle of light and dew,
And the soul may joy to praise
The Lord of roses and of days;
There the caravan of noon
Halts to hear the cricket’s tune,
Fifing there for all who pass
The anthem of the summer grass!
Does not Heaven begin that day
When the eager heart can say,
Surely God is in this place,
I have seen Him face to face
In the loveliness of flowers,
In the service of the showers,
And His voice has talked to me
In the sunlit apple tree.
I can feel Him in my heart,
When the tears of knowledge start
For another’s joy or woe,
Where the lonely soul must go.
Yea, I learned His very look,
When we walked beside the brook,
And you smiled and touched my hand.
God is love. . . I understand.

5. Baby Seed Song

       by Edith Nesbit

Little brown brother, oh! little brown brother,
Are you awake in the dark?
Here we lie cosily, close to each other:
Hark to the song of the lark—
“Waken!” the lark says, “waken and dress you;
Put on your green coats and gay,
Blue sky will shine on you, sunshine caress you—
Waken! ’tis morning—’tis May!”
Little brown brother, oh! little brown brother,
What kind of flower will you be?
I’ll be a poppy—all white, like my mother;
Do be a poppy like me.
What! you’re a sun-flower? How I shall miss you
When you’re grown golden and high!
But I shall send all the bees up to kiss you;
Little brown brother, good-bye.

6. A Life Garden

       by Mabel Earle

A garden-plot of sunny hours
God gives me when I wake,
And I can make it bright with flowers
All day for his dear sake.

Red roses, if my heart is sweet
With love for all my own;
And heart’s-ease springing at my feet
For every kindness shown.

And shining, sunny marigold,
If I am brave and bright;
And lilies, for the thoughts that hold
My heart all pure and white.

Sweet violets, hiding in their leaves,
For truth and modesty;
And balsams if a soul that grieves
Finds comforting in me.

And poppies, if my toil brings rest
To hands grown tired with care;
And always – first and last and best –
Forget-me-nots of prayer.

7. In A Garden

       by Dorothy Frances Gurney

The kiss of the sun for pardon
The song of the birds for mirth,
You’re nearer God’s heart in a garden
Than anywhere else on earth.

Final Thoughts

In conclusion, garden poems offer a beautiful way to appreciate nature’s wonders and the gifts it has to offer.

Whether you’re a gardener or simply enjoy spending time outdoors, these poems can inspire you to see the world in a different light and cherish the beauty that surrounds us.

From funny poems to heartfelt and inspiring ones, there are many garden poems for every mood and occasion.

As we face an ever-changing world, these poems remind us to appreciate simple pleasures and take a moment to reflect on the beauty that nature provides us.

May these poems for garden inspire you to appreciate the natural world and all its treasures.

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