In My Winter Garden

She was little and wrinkled

And her hair was white

As the snow at her feet,

But her eyes were bright

As Black-eyed Susans--

With butterflies flitting--.

She spoke: nymphs of joy

Pirouetted, outwitting

The coldness of winter.

She said with a smile,

"How lovely that summer

Is resting awhile

Beneath all this beauty

White-sculptured in snow!"--

Now, in my winter garden

Black-eyed Susans grow.

Hon. Men. in Archer "People in Winter" Contest