On a given year between
January and Feb,
First is the crocus to grace
the garden;
Bright, cheery,
like the sun;
In tandem with cyclamen and
the earlier tribes of Galanthus.
The floral concert has started,
If it ever had a pause,
And it rarely does it want to stop.
By the time buttercup crocus
departs,
Spring Dawn Narcissus is nodding
beside the path;
Followed by Early Sensation,
Ice Follies and
March Herald Tate-ta-Tate;
Plus the miniatures with a name
I know not.
Yet between the November fall of the
citrine-leaved Maples,
And the rise of crocus janviér;
A new member of Party Floral joins
the Sun:
One with a rosette that opened on
Christmas Eve,
And a second that swept into play on
New Year's Day;
A member of a party of fifteen,
Who between them form a dance from
late July to this Fifteenth of January:
Who will all be pruned the week of
Valentine's Day,
In readiness for a new season of
growth and abundance:
Moleneux the Yellow,
Single member of its
bright shade amongst
the English,
Old English Musk,
Leander and
Alba Roses.
Or,
as I call it this winter's day:
January Yellow.