Poetry Friday round-up is with Amy at The Poem Farm.
Part of playing with poetry is finding poetry everywhere in every way. I was reading The Writer’s Almanac on Eudora Welty’s birthday, April 13th. In the article, there was a list of the seasonal flowers that bloom in Eudora’s garden that was diligently tended by her mother, Chestina. I collected the flower names and crafted a poem around them.
Photo from Calla Lily Dialogues
Walking in Eudora’s Garden
For Eudora Welty, 1909-2001
The optimist’s daughter steps into a garden
of larkspur, writes stories among hollyhocks,
gathers courage from snapdragons.When summer comes, she celebrates phlox
and zinnias and blue salvia.
Even in autumn, her garden bloomswith asters and chrysanthemums–
a name that rolls from her southern drawl
like creamy froth on café au lait.Her garden never dies. Winters charm
with camellias and pansies.
The sounds of birds rejoice all year long.–Margaret Simon (draft) 2019
Author’s note: I grew up in Jackson, MS during Eudora Welty’s lifetime. I once heard her read and was given the opportunity to interview her for a high school project. She was an elegant, kind woman.
Reflections on the Teche 
Margaret- Oh my gosh, so cool that you actually met Eudora Welty. I love how you have taken the flower names and crafted a poem around them. Your poem makes me want to sit in a garden!
Margaret, I think this is one of my favorites of yours. I keep wanting to share a favorite line or image and finally realized I’d have to share the whole poem! It’s really stunning! I also love the backstory of how you came to write it.
Margaret, this poem is stunning beginning with the optimist’s daughter….you know, I’m itching to write a response. Those flowers just — I can just feel them and the joy of them.
I need a post on your HS project getting to interview Eudora Wealty? Just a post on the sound of her voice. I always come here and find myself saying, “wow.” Happy Poetry Friday and Happy Easter to you. I’ll be going to vigil tonight. I love vigil in the middle of the night. I will take the idea of this garden with me.
I, too, want to be in a time machine to listen in on that interview. But of course you did, Margaret! This forming of a poem around flower names is lovely indeed. And I cannot help but wonder if all of the playing with dice and paint chips inspired such play. Our work informs our work. “Her garden never dies.” What words. xx
Just…WOW! that you met and interviewed her! That makes this poem extra special! I love how you are redefining PLAY and finding it in all we do as we write!
Her garden never dies, does it? How cool that you got to interview Eudora Welty! (I was sad when I switched from Eudora for my email to Gmail because I liked that wee tech-y connection.)
I”m inspired by the way you have incorporated these flower names into the poem. This beginning, “The optimist’s daughter” tells so much about her mother and gardeners in general.
You took me back to my grandmother’s wild garden with
writes stories among hollyhocks,
gathers courage from snapdragons
Thank you.
This poem is such a gorgeous bouquet. Thank you! Ruth, thereisnosuchthingasagodforsakentown.blogspot.com
That is wonderful that you got to interview Eudora when you were a student, inspiration enough from then on I imagine! This is ‘garden found’ poem, Margaret, a lovely remembrance.
How delightful to read of the flowers you gathered for this poetic bouquet. My great grandmother loved flowers. My favorite line is this one :
“…writes stories among hollyhocks.”
What a wonder that you interviewed her when you were in high school and were privileged to hear her read.
Wonderful poem, and very cool that you got to interview Eudora herself.
Your lovely tribute poem makes me miss my garden so much. Such a wonderful walk.
Your poem is beautiful, Margaret. I can see Eudora in her garden, inpired to create.
What a gorgeous poem! I love the image of Eudora Welty writing “stories among hollyhocks” and gathering “courage from snapdragons.” And how amazing that you met and interviewed her! One Writer’s Beginnings inspired me many years ago. Your post makes me want to reread her wise words.
I like how you’ve woven the flowers into all the seasons of Eudora’s life, and they continue on into the winter. t
This metaphor of how she speaks of the flowers is beautiful,
“a name that rolls from her southern drawl
like creamy froth on café au lait.”
I especially remember her voice and how elegantly southern it was. She was a gem.
Beautiful poem, and what an opportunity to be able to interview Eudora Welty. I might be a little bit jealous!
How have I never heard that you and Eudora have history? The seasonal list of flowers is lovely, has a cyclical slowness that feels southern to me. Nicely done!