Posts Tagged ‘Sunday Selections’

postheadericon Sunday Selection

Image courtesy of Keattikorn at FreeDigitalPhotos.net
Nothing Gold Can Stay 
by Robert Frost 

Nature’s first green is gold, 
Her hardest hue to hold. 
Her early leaf’s a flower; 
But only so an hour. 
Then leaf subsides to leaf. 
So Eden sank to grief, 
So dawn goes down to day. 
Nothing gold can stay.

postheadericon Sunday Selections

You are my Sunshine, My Only Sunshine

Toot, Celie, Hammie



You make me happy….when skies are gray



Lily, Celie, Porkchop, Toot, Hammie


You’ll never know dear…

I swear, he’s a cat – not a potbelly pig
how much I Love You

Sheena/Sha Nay Nay/Old Lady

Please don’t take… my sunshine away.

Badger, Tory, Bugsy



postheadericon Sunday Selections

Delicious autumn!
My very soul is wedded to it,
and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth
seeking the successive autumns.
~George Eliot

postheadericon Sunday Selections

Love is a flower that grows in any soil, works its sweet miracles undaunted by autumn frost or winter snow, blooming fair and fragrant all the year, and blessing those who give and those who receive.
~Louisa May Alcott

postheadericon Sunday Selections

Fall, leaves, fall; die, flowers, away;
Lengthen night and shorten day;
Every leaf speaks bliss to me
Fluttering from the autumn tree.
 

I shall smile when wreaths of snow
Blossom where the rose should grow;
I shall sing when night’s decay
Ushers in a drearier day.
~ Emily Bronte

postheadericon Sunday Selections

The Gardener’s Morning

The robin’s song at daybreak
Is a clarion call to me.
Get up and get out in the garden,
For the morning hours flee.

I cannot resist the summons,
What earnest gardener could?
For the golden hours of morning
Get into the gardener’s blood.

The magic spell is upon me,
I’m glad that I did not wait;
For life’s at its best in the morning,
As you pass through the garden gate.
– Howard Dolf

postheadericon Sunday Selections

Garden Sanctuary
You who walk,
Maybe with troubled thoughts,
Come, enter here and rest;
And may the sweet serenity of growing things,
And the heavenly peace
Be mirrored in thy soul.
-Doxis M. Palmer

postheadericon Sunday Selections

“I perhaps owe having become a painter to flowers.”
— Claude Monet

postheadericon Sunday Selections

He who is born with a silver spoon in his mouth is generally
considered a fortunate person, but his good fortune is small
compared to that of the happy mortal who enters this world
with a passion for flowers in his soul.
– Celia Thaxter

postheadericon Sunday Selections

In joy or sadness, flowers are our constant friends.
– Kozuko Okakura


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