gardening christmas poem

"A Night Before Spring"

by John Bagnasco

‘Twas the night before Christmas, in the garden so fair,

Where blooms were still sleeping, no scents filled the air.

The spades were all nestled, in the shed with great care,

In hopes that the planting time soon would be there.

The bulbs kept their heads in the soil,

While gardeners dreamt of upcoming toil.

My wife in her apron, and I in my cap,

Had just planned our garden, a most wonderful map.

When out in the beds, there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from my seat to see what was the matter.

When what to my wondering eyes, it appears,

A miniature wheelbarrow, and eight tiny shears.

With a little old gardener, so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick!

So up to the housetop, the coursers they flew,

With a sleigh full of plants, and the jolly gardener too.

He was dressed all in denim, from his head to his foot,

And his clothes were all tarnished with soil and soot;

A bundle of seeds he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,

And filled all the planters; then turned with a jerk,

And laying his finger aside of his nose,

And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,

And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight – 

“Happy Gardening to all, and to all a good night!”