Today I ate the first green bean from our garden. To me, that really feels like the best of summer.
Last summer, I lived in a little apartment. It was sweet, and the view was fantabulous!
Out on my balcony, I had a couple of planters filled with herbs, but there wasn’t really the space or the light for more of a garden. But this year I’m living in a house–for the first time in 16 or 17 years. I’m sharing it with my good friend and fellow artist and EC teacher. And we have a back yard! And Colby, my roommate, planted beans, tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, a few herbs. Most are planted in pots, but they are all growing.
A poem in honor of the first green bean
One of the many delightful things about green beans is that when you look at the vines, the beans are hidden beneath the leaves. When I still lived in Chicago 2 summers ago, I had a little garden plot in a community garden just a few blocks from my apartment. I’d go over there almost every morning to water and to pick whatever was ready to eat–once summer really got going, I usually had enough greens and herbs for a salad, plus some mint and chamomile to make iced tea. That little garden made me unreasonably happy. That garden inspired a series of bug-ku based on some of the little critters I found there. Among others, there was:a ladybug bug-ku and a slug bug-ku
And I am happy to have a garden once more. So in honor of the first green bean, here’s a little poem:
Hiding under frilly leaf
I peek and find you snug beneath
earthy, mellow, fuzzy, sweet
dear little green bean, meet my teeth.
And a poem for an old green bean
In my 2 years ago garden, the green beans did especially well. Every day, I’d pick handfuls of them and usually eat them raw and chopped in my salad. I tried to find all the beans before they got too big, but I always missed a few, which I would discover when they were huge and yellow and good only to save as seeds for next year. This poem honors that green bean that hid from me so long that it turned from green to yellow.
TO THE AGING GREEN BEAN I JUST FOUND IN MY GARDEN
Green bean, have you lost your snap?
Did I wake you from your nap?
You’re not green, you’re pale yellow.
You are not a tasty fellow.
I will open you up so,
Plant you in the earth below.
Soon you’ll be a brand new vine and
Grow sweet beans that taste just fine.
Poetry Friday
Well, I think that’s all the green bean poems I have for today–but a lot more green beans are coming my way, so maybe more poems will be, too. But today is Poetry Friday, so if you want to see what other poets have to say today, check out There is No Such Thing as a Godforsaken Town to see what other poets have to share–and share something yourself, if you want.
In the meantime, thanks for stopping by!
Stay safe and have a great week.
xoxo
Yay, green beans for dessert! Thanks for coming to the party!
Thanks, Ruth–maybe some green bean ice cream!!
I am a fan of green beans, too. I enjoyed your poems and have always found it amazing how many beans can lurk under those leaves. Always more than you think. It’s nice that your old bean was put to use and not wasted.
I had to laugh when I found those hidden beans–because they were so huge I don’t know how I could have missed them, but I did. I had a wonderful friend who taught me about gardening and saving seeds.
Well, I am jealous indeed! We have a balcony, but get very little sun, so nothing seems to grow. I’m reminded of the sunny balcony at our previous apartment, where we naively planted a few herbs and veggies and found ourselves overrun – a very nice predicament to have! 🙂
It is definitely one of life’s pleasures to have a garden–and being overrun with herbs and veggies is a lovely dilemna!