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'Twas the night before Christmas I was at Highland Rim,
Brought leaves from my driveway to put in the bin.
The perennials were nestled snug in their mulch bed.
Though the blooms were long gone, they still danced in my head.
Bundled in a scarf and my down-filled vest,
On the bench by the circle garden, I paused for a rest.
The sunlight had faded, and dusk softly lay,
Casting the garden in an ethereal gray.
My eyelids grew heavy; dreams started to stream,
Of blossoms returning in the sun’s golden gleam.
When out in the garden, there arose such a clatter,
I leapt from the bench to see what was the matter!
Toward the milkweed, I dashed in a stuporous daze,
Where bees were now buzzing in sun-dappled rays.
A breeze, warm and light, brushed my face as it blew
Awakening the springtime with life fresh and new.
“Now Jennie, Now Dorothy, Now Becky and Gwen
Grab tools from the greenhouse; it’s time once again!
On Jason, on Rich on Jeff and on Bob
The blueberries are blooming, for you there's a job.”
South of the trellis, there arose quite a stir
Mag, Cheryl, and Dawn were spreading manure.
Jeanie was planting to help UT test,
Growing veggies in Tennessee. Which one will do best?
The garden was alive with energy and cheer,
As friends worked together to welcome the year.
The excitement fatigued me but I was light-hearted
so I retired to the bench where all this had started.
I know that this tale sounds too vivid to believe
But what better way to spend Christmas Eve.
With a yawn and a stretch, I rose from my seat,
Knowing, in a few months this scene would repeat.
For though winter has settled, its reign will not last,
The garden’s bright future will outshine its past.
As I turned to depart from that idyllic site
An urge suddenly struck me to shout with delight
“Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”
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