"Hollyhocks By the Kitchen Door"

I have looked everywhere for this poem. I remember it from childhood but can't seem to locate it. To make matters worse, I don't know who wrote it. Can any of you help me out here? I need it for part of a gardening article about biennials.......

Woodspirit,
I don't know that one, but here is one I like.. Hope you enjoy it..Would love to find the one you are talking about. I will keep searching..
Larkie

THE PROFITEER

"And here I'll plant some hollyhocks
For they will come again.
They don't need much attention
And very little rain."

I'm glad she sowed the hollyhocks
For now they bloom for me.
All up and down and 'round about,
A rippling, rosy sea--
The hollyhocks my granny sowed
In Eighteen Ninety-three.

And what may I be sowing
That they will pause to say:
"How lovely are the blossoms
We find along our way."

Mary Elizabeth Mahnkey

This is one of my favorites, although not the one you're looking for:

Hollyhocks
Old-fashioned flowers! I love them all;
The morning-glories on the wall,
The pansies in their patch of shade,
The violets, stolen from a glade,
The bleeding hearts and columbine,
Have long been garden friends of mine;
But memory every summer flocks
About a clump of hollyhocks.

The mother loved them years ago;
Beside the fence they used to grow,
And though the garden changed each year
And certain blooms would disappear
To give their places in the ground
to something new that mother found,
Some pretty bloom or rosebush rare–
The hollyhocks were always there.

It seems but yesterday to me
She led me down the yard to see
The first tall spires, with bloom aflame,
And taught me to pronounce their name.
And year by year I watched them grow,
The first flowers I had come to know.
And with the mother dear I'd yearn
To see the holly hocks return.

The garden of my boyhood days
With hollyhocks was kept ablaze;
In all my recollections they
In friendly columns nod and sway;
And when to-day their blooms I see,
Always the mother smiles at me;
The mind's bright chambers, life unlocks
Each summer with the hollyhocks.
--Edgar A Guest

Here's one of mine for you

Sowing the Hollyhock Seeds

Stuffed in a drawer,
with a mind to planting later,
the seeds had rested
in folded over envelopes
with an address
for a woman gone these 10 years.
My sporadic and unpredictable cleaning
had left them there,
passed over again and again,
all but forgotten,
to be found unexpectedly
while searching for my birth certificate.
I took the envelopes, labeled:
"pink"
"red"
"dark red"
"white"
and opened them cautiously,
expecting mold and desolation,
but the rounded pods
held their seed slices intact,
dry and firm
and ready to be dropped onto the
late summer ground.
I sprinkled them
through a bed of phlox,
protection from being mowed, or
weeded out,
and dreamed of hollyhock ballerinas
and my grandmother's lemonade,
proof of my birth
no longer necessary.

Kathleen

I think I got much more than the poem I was looking for. I was so touched. It was so unexpected. Thank you, Thank you, Thank you.