… But my heart is
Returned to sister winter
But my hands are
As cold as ice …
All articles filed in in passing
Sister Winter
I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says, ‘Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again.’
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the grave’s a fine and private place
The grave’s a fine and private place,
But none, I think, do there embrace.
– Andrew Marvell
hyacinthine
Poetry is the synthesis of hyacinths and biscuits. Carl Sandburg
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Waking up to spring
“Is the spring coming?” he said. “What is it like?”…
“It is the sun shining on the rain and the rain falling on the sunshine…”
― Frances Hodgson Burnett, The Secret Garden
Still Life in Rose: No. 3
Flowers… are a proud assertion that a ray of beauty outvalues all the utilities of the world. — Ralph Waldo Emerson
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Still Life in Rose: No. 2
“We have descended into the garden and caught three hundred slugs. How I love the mixture of the beautiful and the squalid in gardening. It makes it so lifelike.” — Evelyn Underhill
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Still Life in Rose: No. 1
“Nobody can be uncheered with a balloon.” ― A.A. Milne, Winnie-the-Pooh
Read Morei have been given a belly so that i might hunger. i have been given hunger so that i might be fed. — n.d. wilson
Read Moremagnificat
In those days Mary arose and went with haste into the hill country, to a town in Judah, and she entered the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth. And when Elizabeth heard the greeting of Mary, the baby leaped in her womb. And Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit, and she exclaimed with…
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