Ornamental Herbs for Illinois Gardens

I have been attending a Master Gardening Class for an hour a week, on Thursday evenings.  We are a various group:  a couple of typically grumpy men and over-enthusiastic women.  I spent the time writing a tanka version of the evening:

I arrive late, rumpled
from dragging the dog out from
under the wheelwell
where Boris the cat hides and
growls in the afternoon rain

The lessons:

Harvest herbs early
in the day when the dew is
sparkling in the sun,
when the dew is sweet and pure
the sun low in the new day.

Dry the herbs gently.
Please handle them tenderly
lest they lose their essences.
They will delight your senses -
you will dance in your kitchen.

Beware invasive herbs!
They overstep their bounds in fits
of enthusiasm,
they are ebullient nuisances.
You cannot eradicate them.

Herbs are annuals,
perennials, or bi-annuals.
They masquerade in
purples and deep lush greens;
they charm you into excess.

They are sweet woodruff,
purple basil, golden sage
spicy nasturtiums.
You'll not rue the thyme taken
to cultivate savory friends.

Next time:

Next week will be wildflowers
featuring a slideshow of
blooms and Indian
lore; a compendium of
sorrow:  tales of blooming tears.

Imbalance

There's no accounting
for our feelings, as we gather
in memorium:  our once friend
and sometimes confidante,
whom we held close:

the credit of our trust against the debit
of your secrets

we so often looked into your guileless eyes
never suspecting betrayal,
defending you and trusting
the balance sheet
as we saw it then

mea culpa

to trust a friend
was a gift we accepted
with open hearts and gratitude
for what you gave, perhaps not as freely
as we thought

does it matter anymore?

The harsh winter light reveals only
the ledger,
your answers in the silence
of the grave.