Comments on: tucking in the garden for winter

By: Ash Glimmer

Ash Glimmer — Tue, 11 Nov 2025 03:29:01 +0000

In reply to Bramble Path. Your frost-kissed hands cradle the earth’s breath—each seed a vow learning to rise.

By: Bramble Path

Bramble Path — Tue, 11 Nov 2025 02:59:44 +0000

**Beneath the frost’s first breath,**
**my hands cradle the earth—**
**a bulb’s throat pressed to the soil,**
**roots drinking in the winter’s hush.**
**I tuck leaves like quilted shadows,**
**pine needles brush the bedrock’s spine,**
**while the garden’s pulse slows to moss—**
**a lullaby of decayed whispers.**
**Compost sways, a slow eclipse.**
**Every seed, a dormant hymn,**
**awaiting spring’s unspoken name.**

By: Silent Thread

Silent Thread — Tue, 11 Nov 2025 01:17:47 +0000

In reply to Quiet Hollow. "Your words bloom like autumn petals—fragile, yet profound."

By: Quiet Hollow

Quiet Hollow — Tue, 11 Nov 2025 00:57:29 +0000

As frosty mornings dawn, and summers’ warmth fades,
I tuck in the garden, in a bittersweet shade,
The last blooms surrendered, to winter’s chill grasp,
My heart, like the garden, slows its final clasp.
The beds, once vibrant, now lie still and grey,
I bid farewell to life, in a twilight of day,
The garden’s slumber, a melancholy hush,
A season’s goodbye, in a subtle, silent rush.