Tag Archives: Virginia Gambardella

The Glad Hand of Spring

A Forsythia inside the courtyard of ENS Ulm Copyright (c) 2005 David Monniaux WC

“A forsythia inside the courtyard of École Normale Supérieure (Paris)”, Copyright 2005 David Monniaux, via Wikimedia Commons.

 

The Glad Hand of Spring

Golden shooting stars fall toward the earth,
A fragile graceful fountain,
Refreshing mental drought.
A burst of garden laughter,
The greeter at spring’s gate,
Forsythia!

(April 17, 1989)
Virginia Gambardella

Virginia writes: “I vividly remember the day I wrote this poem. I needed a poem for the church’s monthly bulletin, and I needed it immediately, so this was composed in a few minutes for the secretary. The forsythia grew outside the office window and I had in the previous two or three year reshaped it into a fountain (as it should not have been sheared off across the top like a privet hedge). By ‘89 it was outdoing itself, so in fact, deserved an ode to its beauty.”

* * *

 

virginia_gambardella

Virginia Gambardella lives in New York. She has one son, three grandchildren, and enjoys the following: people, holidays, antiques, nature, gardening, fishing, decorating, fashion, sharing knowledge, cooking, and baking. She’s a cancer survivor, a pancreatitis survivor, a widow, and the re-inventor of her life, “as necessary.”

 

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On the First Day of Spring

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

“Andean goose, Chloephaga melanoptera, sat in daisies”, 14 May 2014, by Francis C. Franklin of England, via Wikimedia Commons.

 

Virginia Gambardella sent a “Welcome to Spring” poem to me this morning. Within minutes, I found this image of a goose in a bed of chamomile. A charming goose, a charming little poem—our offering to you all on this first day of spring. (Thank you, Jinny.)—S.K.

Earth Born Stars

A hundred stars shoot from the earth
To kiss the sun at their rebirth,
They call hello and wave to all
Who wander by my garden wall.

Then petals fade, they smile no more,
My daisies at the kitchen door

June 1, 1989

* * *

 

virginia_gambardella

Virginia Gambardella lives in New York. She has one son, three grandchildren, and enjoys the following: people, holidays, antiques, nature, gardening, fishing, decorating, fashion, sharing knowledge, cooking, and baking. She’s a cancer survivor, a pancreatitis survivor, a widow, and the re-inventor of her life, “as necessary.”

 

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Come Little Leaves

marsh-lambert-my-little-nature-book

From My Little Nature Book With My Very Own Pictures by H. G. C. Marsh Lambert, 1930. You can read a little about the artist/writer of this book here

 

 

Come Little Leaves

“Come, little leaves,” said the wind one day,
“Come over the meadows with me, and play;
Put on your dresses of red and gold;
Summer is gone, and the days grow cold.”

Soon as the leaves heard the wind’s loud call,
Down they came fluttering, one and all;
Over the brown fields they danced and flew,
Singing the soft little songs they knew.

* * *

These verses came from our friend Virginia Gambardella this morning. I hadn’t heard from her in a while as she’s been mired these past months in relocating from her home of many years. Her letter joked about digging out of her latest “decoration” of packing boxes and bags. Still, she found the time to connect, to send a few words about Halloweens past,  and this very charming song. “I can remember my mother singing it to me when I was a small child,” wrote Virginia, adding that her mother said she sang the song in school when she was a small girl.

I looked up Come Little Leaves and found a much longer version that connects to our rural past with lines about lambs, vales, and fields. It was written by the American poet George Cooper (1838–1927) with  music by Thomas J. Crawford. Virginia gave it a date of 1903, but through a little research I found it in a educational publication called The Michigan School Monitor in 1889.
—S. K.

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virginia_gambardella

Virginia Gambardella lives in New York. She has one son, three grandchildren, and enjoys the following: people, holidays, antiques, nature, gardening, fishing, decorating, fashion, sharing knowledge, cooking, and baking. She’s a cancer survivor, a pancreatitis survivor, a widow, and the re-inventor of her life, “as necessary.”

 

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The Dream

Robert_Anning_Bell_1901_A_Flight_of_Fairies

Robert Anning Bell, 1901, “A Flight of Fairies” – via Wikimedia Commons.

 

The Dream

Hold my hand and we will go
to places only fairies know.
Beneath the green-striped lily leaf
beside a nest the robin weaves.
Into the tulip’s lifted cup
We’ll drink the dew drops while we sup.
Then ride a snail across the path,
to splash with sparrows in their bath.
Someday we’ll course a moonbeam bright,
and fade into the magic night.

Virginia Caroline Schmidt Gambardella

 

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Virginia Gambardella lives in New York, only three miles from where she grew up. Her dad was a naval engineer and adventurer, and her mom was a dressmaker for Bergdorf Goodman. Virginia enjoys: people, holidays, antiques, nature, gardening, fishing, decorating, fashion, sharing knowledge, cooking and baking. She’s a cancer survivor, a pancreatitis survivor, a widow, and the re-inventor of her life, “as necessary.” She wrote “The Dream” in 1991.

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The Gifts of April

By Lobachev Vladimir, via Wikimedia Commons

Girl with a wreath, by Lobachev Vladamir. Via Wikimedia Commons.

The Gifts

April’s garden fraught with scent,

Spring’s gift until the blooms spent.

The jewels of nature, flora crown,

Bespeak a world of grace renown.

(April 28, 1990)

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Virginia_G

Virginia Gambardella lives in New York, only three miles from where she grew up. Her dad was a naval engineer and adventurer, and her mom, who sometimes called her “lamb’s lettuce” was a dressmaker for Bergdorf Goodman. Virginia has one son and three grandchildren and enjoys: people, holidays, antiques, nature, gardening, fishing, decorating, fashion, sharing knowledge, cooking and baking. She’s a cancer survivor, a pancreatitis survivor, a widow, and the re-inventor of her life, “as necessary.”

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Fall Magic

quercus_palustris_pin_oak_-_beale_arboretum_-_west_lodge_park_hadley_wood_enfield_london

Pin Oak, or swamp Spanish oak, Quercus palustris. The Beale Arboretum, London, England. Via Wikimedia Commons.

 

ABRACADABRA
Now summer with her raging heat,
Withdraws her arms from panting earth,
The night descends, it seems at midday
Wrapping our world in darkened veils
Trees give up their coats of green
To don the scarlet cloaks of kings
But soon these mantles grace the earth
Natures jewels to trod upon
Watch closely now the hand of God
ABRACADABRA!
* * *
36866251 - yellow and red color leaves fallen on ground in autumn

Image by manganganath, via 123RF Stock Photos.

Mikey at Fairy Rock
The falling leaves weave a tapestry
Gold, red, brown and rust,
The wind throws her shuttle
Across the autumn sky,
A pattern of fairy wings
Cascading to earth,
To tryst with Oberon
One last time,
Ere the winter claims these
Gently fallen beings
To sleep forever in the earth.
* * *
virginia_gambardella

Virginia with her grandchildren, Erica and Mikey. Photo by her son Michael.

 

Virginia Gambardella lives in New York, only three miles from where she grew up. Her dad was a naval engineer and adventurer, and her mom, who sometimes called her “lamb’s lettuce” was a dressmaker for Bergdorf Goodman (she made all of Virginia’s clothes). Virginia has one son and three grandchildren and enjoys: people, holidays, antiques, nature, gardening, fishing, decorating, fashion, sharing knowledge, cooking and baking. She describes herself as “a memory keeper to the extreme”—she even kept her son’s baby teeth. She’s a cancer survivor, a pancreatitis survivor, a widow, and the re-inventor of her life, “as necessary.” She likes to exercise and spends every vacation at the beach with family.

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