Results and Roses: Garden Bloggers’ Muse Day
February 1st, 2008 by Kathy Purdy · 15 Comments
The man who wants a garden fair,
Or small or very big,
With flowers growing here and there,
Must bend his back and dig.
The things are mighty few on earth
That wishes can attain.
Whate’er we want of any worth
We’ve got to work to gain.
It matters not what goals you seek,
Its secret here reposes:
You’ve got to work from week to week
To get Results or Roses.
–Edgar A. Guest
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About Kathy Purdy
Kathy Purdy discovered the joys of writing in fourth grade, when she started corresponding with a former classmate. She's been writing letters ever since, first on looseleaf, then electronically, and now as weblog entries. That makes you, the blog reader, her pen pal. Her first independent (though frustrating) attempts at gardening were made in high school, though the gardening bug didn't bite hard until her mid-thirties, when she found herself mistress of a rural home on 15 acres. •
USDA Hardiness Zone:4 • AHS Heat Zone: 3 • Location: rural;
Southern Tier of NY • Geographic type: foothills of Appalachian
Mountains • Soil Type: acid clay • Experience level:
intermediate
• Particular interests: colchicums, narcissus, cottage gardening, NY
native plants, gardening with/for children
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15 responses so far ↓
1
debra
// Feb 1, 2008 at 2:45 am
Dear Kathy, I have to tell you that my father’s FAVORITE poet is Edgar Guest…and I actually found for him some leather-bound, first-edition books of Guest poetry at the venerable Powell’s Bookstore in Portland a few years ago (hoping you’ll get to visit there in Sept.).
Thank you for the poem, xoxdkp
2
Kathy Purdy
// Feb 1, 2008 at 10:14 am
Glad it brought back good memories for you, Debra
3
Carol
// Feb 1, 2008 at 5:02 pm
What a great poem. It expresses a similar thought to the one line quote I posted for muse day… you gotta work at it to get something from the garden!
Carol, May Dreams Gardens
4
jodi
// Feb 1, 2008 at 7:57 pm
Very clever, indeed! I haven’t read this poem before.
5
Shari
// Feb 1, 2008 at 8:18 pm
I enjoyed the poem. It is a beautifully structured reminder of the connection between work and wonderful!
6
Jenn
// Feb 1, 2008 at 8:53 pm
That’s great!
7
Robin
// Feb 1, 2008 at 9:48 pm
I enjoyed the poem too. I try to remember the rewards of hard work when I’m dragging those bags of manure to the back yard. The fruits of the labor are so worth it.
8
Diana
// Feb 2, 2008 at 3:34 pm
How true! And it reminds me that even though we gardeners like to think that we are in charge, for all our planning and plotting, we are truly at the mercy of Mother Nature. We might think we’re getting roses, but, it doesn’t always turn out that way, in spite of our best intentions!
9
Curtis
// Feb 2, 2008 at 9:22 pm
Kathy, This very true. I just had to read it aloud to the kids. All things that are of any worth are gotten by hard work.
10
Don
// Feb 3, 2008 at 11:53 am
I’ve got a set of four stepping stones that run through my rose bed; each stone has a line from the last stanza of the poem by Guest… kind of cool (of course you have to walk the right way down the path to read it).
11
Kathy Purdy
// Feb 3, 2008 at 12:01 pm
Don . . . that is cool! Thank you everyone for stopping by. I was sorting through old catalogs and found the poem on the back of the catalog from a used book dealer. (In the pre-Internet era, if you wanted a book that was out of print, you had to contact a used book dealer.)
12
Mr. McGregor's Daughter
// Feb 4, 2008 at 1:45 pm
Great poem - a metaphor for life.
13
Shady Gardener
// Feb 4, 2008 at 10:00 pm
I was unfamiliar with that poem. I’ll have to see if I can locate a book or two by this author! Can’t play until you get your work done. Can’t enjoy it unless you’ve worked!
14
Annie in Austin
// Feb 5, 2008 at 8:48 pm
Thanks for sharing this one, Kathy - both funny and true. Don’s poetic rose path sure does sound cool.
Annie at the Transplantable Rose
15
Mary Ann
// Feb 17, 2008 at 7:12 am
Reminds me of my favorite, Rudyard Kipling and The Glory of the Garden.
“Our England is a garden, and such gardens are not made
By singing:—“Oh, how beautiful!†and sitting in the shade…”
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