A Master Gardener is what I am,
Ms, Mrs., Mr. or maybe Mame.
I plant the corn out in the ground,
No birds, no insects and not a sound.
My flowers bloom without the bees,
No caterpillars in my trees.
My hedges don't cause me no trouble,
They trim themselves and leave no rubble.
It's not too dry and not too wet,
There's nothing I haven't mastered yet.
Pollution free - no heavy rain,
No storm, no wind - no normal pain.
It's sad to say that this is true,
One day it happened out of the blue.
My dome did crack - heaven behold,
In came the insects, virus and mold.
Rampaged my garden - left it in ruin.
No plant survived - none were immune.
On hands and knees I cried disaster,
The day God showed me who was the Master.

If puppy love is not for real?
This awful hurt, I should not feel.
I’m all upset yet I will not cry,
Ignore I will, this is Good-Bye.

Friends we’ve been for oh so long,
I’m not quite ready to move on.
We’ve never dated, never kissed,
Does she know she will be missed?

I must pretend that all’s okay,
Until this emptiness goes away.
It’ll never be the same again,
Can you see my tears in the rain?

To us, puppy love is not so unreal,
We’re young, and our hearts heal.
The saddest outcome in the end,
Is losing a very special friend.

I WILL SOON BE POSTING NEW POEMS! PLEASE DROP ME
A LINE + LET ME KNOW IF YOU
WANT ME TO POST MORE
MY NEW EMAIL ADDRESS is: magnoliaflowers@videotron.ca
OR SIGN MY GUESTBOOK! I WOULD LOVE TO HEAR FROM YOU!

Lovely flowers in her hair,
To the altar she did wear.
Flowers planted one by one,
In her garden in the sun.
As the people knelt in prayer,
No one knew that she was there.
As the choir began to sing,
She could hear the church bell ring.
"Please forgive me if I'm bold,
Who's this woman oh so cold?
Won't someone please answer me?"
Was she in a fantasy?
As she turned around in shock,
It was her inside the box.
As she felt the warm embrace,
Wiped tears from her daughter's face.

This little child was never mine,
Nor was she yours, we borrow time.
This little child is from above,
God let us have her out of love.

She may be with us for some years,
Wipe her tears,shield her from fears.
And we must share this child divine,
Let's pray she's happy most of time.

And when it's time to let her go,
Our deepest sadness she musn't know.
Oh let her see through her own eyes,
No longer a child, we'll realize.

Let her time with us be well spent,
Never have to look back in repent.
The child was ours but for a spell,
So proud that she turned out so well.

I'm in the middle of a dream,
Life is not the way it seems.
I'm in the middle of a story,
I search for love and glory.

I'm in the middle of a dream,
Mustn't wake until I've seen.
I'm in the middle of a room,
Night takes over day too soon.

I'm in the middle of my birth,
Someone is crying out in hurt.
I'm in the middle of a bed,
Satiny white neath my head.

I'm in the middle of no where,
And yet my loved ones are there.
Someone kisses me on the cheek,
Try hard to utter but can't speak.

I'm in the middle of the day,
How come the Sun has gone away?
I'm in the middle of my sleep.
Why do they whisper and weep?

I'm in the middle of a prayer,
The lights close, what a scare.
I'm in the middle of a car,
Stop, don't take me too far.

I'm in the middle of the ground,
Where only insects run abound.
I'm in the middle of a plot,
Much too cold and much too hot.

Poems by Jenny Philbert

"Inside this Lonely Grave" won the number 9 spot in the
Preditors and Editors Reading Poll. It was a ten top finalist.
Thanks from the bottom of my heart to all who voted!

Go to Page 3!

THE CHILDREN OF YESTERYEAR

From the heart a song or tune is born. The mind reacts and transforms this into a poem. My poems come from spontaneous reactions to events that are true or la mirror of what the future has in store. This state of profound deepness is inspired by the child inside, for this child is gifted with the age of innocence that somehow we loose track of. It's there, just let your heart reach and touch that child inside each of us. Love is the key that unlocks the door to the heart and that's how I write Poetry - From My Heart.

About Me

I am from Gatineau - Quebec - Canada. I was born in Sindelfingen, Germany; am of Polish origin, studied in English and married a French Quebecker so deep inside I feel more like a cosmopolitain..a child of the universe. I am now retired, mother of two now
adult boys; the eldest is married and the youngest at home
and I am a proud grandmother.

I always loved poetry and was fascinated by Robert Frost and many other including the author of IN FLANDERS FIELDS, John McCrae...a very young Canadian whose memory lives on in every corner of the world. My inspirations come from real live events or just from plain watching the world with all my senses..I love to garden and see myself in adoration of Mother Earth and Nature.

Excerpts and sample poems

REVIEWS

"Excellent poetry...I love reading it!" Nicole Forsey,
Gananoque,Ontario, Canada

"Your poems are great, Jenny!" Henry Walosik, Val d'Or, Quebec

"Truly wonderful...I especially like the irony in 'Master
Gardener.'"Marilyn Reese, San Diego, California

"I read your poem to the seniors today and they really enjoyed
it..." Diane Schuller, Alberta, Canada

"I especially liked your "Master Gardener" poem....very
profound..." Debra Baker, Kirbyille, Texas

"Jenny Philbert's poetry is a heart-felt tribute to that which
touches us most: family, nature, and love. She controls her
choice of poetic form with precision and emotional effect.
Honest and forth-coming, these poems are a delight to read
and resonate long afterwards."

Adrienne Weiss for Junction Books, Toronto

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