In February, garden catalogs were sent,
And so, my family's heads were bent
Poring over every page.
We were in the planning stage.

In March, Dad turned the earth,
Added compost to give the soil worth.
Seeds and bulbs arrived by mail,
Enthusiasm, we could not curtail.

In April, frost had passed.
We could plant our seeds at last.
Depth and spacing done with care,
For the best, we said a prayer.

In May, look at all the sprouts!
Green fronds are poking out.
But there elbowing the growing seeds,
Are dreaded, invading, unwanted weeds.

In June, pole beans climb on high.
Onions we water, we will fry.
The strawberries in their bed,
Fat and juicy, turning red.

In July, sunshine makes our garden grow,
Tender carrots, ripe tomatoes in row.
But aphids and slugs we fight.
Hope that brown is not a blight.

In August, corn on the cob we eat.
Slathered with butter, it's quite a treat.
Mom cans everything in sight.
This winter we're sure to be all right.

In September, its harvest time.
Cucumbers now are soaked in brine,
Digging potatoes from their hills,
Um-m with sour cream and all the frills.

In October, my, oh, my,
Mama now will bake a pumpkin pie.
We'll clear the ground to start anew,
With another year in view.