James Thompson was considered a sybarite,
because he liked to stand in his garden
with his hands in his pockets, eating the sunny sides of the peaches hanging there.
THOUGHTS IN A GARDEN



What wondrous life is 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,
Ensnared with flowers, 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.


— Andrew Marvell
from Thoughts in a Garden
Poetry Garden
LAUNDRY DAY
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Poetry Garden
The Summer Day
Some Glad Morning
Dew
Botanical Correspondences
Lost
A Birthday Poem
Happiness
Our Torn Roots Are Alive
A Yellow Leaf
Spring Lemonade
Little Summer Poem
A Color of the Sky
Philosophy in Warm Weather
Thoughts in a Garden
The Red Wheelbarrow
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Messenger
Against Lawn
Autumn
Fall Song
The Garden
Honey
Hornworm: Summer Reverie
Border of Lavender
Ode: Intimations of Immortality
Little Sister Pond
Metamorphosis
Monet
Moss
October (Section I)
Planting a Dogwood
Poem Ending with Line by Rumi
Porch Swing in September
Sleeping in the Forest
This is the Garden
This Shining Moment
To Autumn
Unharvested
Woods
Morning Glory Vine
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Amaryllis
Aware
Bindweed
Stealing Lilacs
Falling Asleep in the Garden
I Go Among Trees and Sit Still
The Months
Of Mere Being
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