September Poem

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"The breezes taste 

Of apple peel. 

The air is full 

Of smells to feel- 

Ripe fruit, old footballs, 

Burning brush, 

New books, erasers, 

Chalk, and such. 

The bee, his hive, 

Well-honeyed hum, 

And Mother cuts 

Chrysanthemums. 

Like plates washed clean 

With suds, the days 

Are polished with 

A morning haze. "

-  John Updike, September

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Balance

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Daydreams obtained our mental balance. 

- Elisabeth Maria Maurer

I heart Macro - Makro Monday 2 

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Rosen und Dichter - John Vance Cheney

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I question not if thrushes sing,

If roses load the air;

Beyond my heart I need not reach

When all is summer there.

- John Vance Cheney

Friday Finds - Floral Friday - Scenic Weekend - My Sunday Photo

... this is the beautiful Rambling Rose "Bobbie James" in my Garden. It's a one time blowing rose, but breathtaking in fragrance and opulence. I've use the gorgeous texture "Carmel" from KimKlassen for this image. 

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TT - Breath of Spring

... they heard and felt the breath of spring,
and they stirred with new life and hope.
There was a good, new smell in the air,
a smell of earth waking after its long sleep....


E.B. White
( The Trumpet of the Swan )

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Welcome February !!

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Februar

Auf der Spur der strengen Schönen 

Schreitet Februar einher, 

Sanfter, milder von Gebärden, 

Ohne Winterschutz und Wehr. 

Ihre schönen, ernsten Augen, 

Die voll Sehnsucht vorwärts schau'n, 

Seh'n schon hinter Regenwolken 

Ahnungsvoll den Himmel blau'n. 

Horch, am Boden leises Regen! 

Unter ihrem nackten Fuß 

Sprießt Schneeglöckchen aus der Erde, 

Frühlings erster Botengruß. – 

Wenn im bunten Fastnachtstrubel, 

Du die Gegenwart vergißt, 

Wisse, daß Natur da draußen 

Unentwegt am Werke ist. 

Doch die hohe Frau im Schleier, 

Die den Frühling herbestellt, 

Räumt bescheiden ihrer Schwester 

Vor der Zeit das Arbeitsfeld.

Hela Sanders, eigentlich Helene Krüger, 1879 - 1952 deutsche Dichterin

Quelle: »Goldene Garben. Ein Brevier für Frauen und Jungfrauen», 1907

The February sunshine steeps your boughs and tints the buds and swells the leaves within.

William C. Bryant

Floral Friday - Friday Finds - Textures Tuesday 

Definitely

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Christmas is definitely my favorite holiday. The tree, the lights, all the presents to unwrap.

Could there be anything more magical than that?!

Merry Christmas!

... I hope you enjoy my series "Christmas Thoughts" .... only 2 day left 

textured with kk_calamity





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Remembrance

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Christmas — that magic blanket that wraps itself about us, that something so intangible that it is like a fragrance. It may weave a spell of nostalgia. Christmas may be a day of feasting, or of prayer, but always it will be a day of remembrance — a day in which we think of everything we have ever loved. 

- Augusta E. Rundel

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Christmastide

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Whose heart doth hold the Christmas glow
Hath little need of Mistletoe;
Who bears a smiling grace of mien
Need waste no time on wreaths of green;
Whose lips have words of comfort spread
Needs not the holly-berries red—
His very presence scatters wide
The spirit of the Christmastide.

- John Kendrick Bangs, 1862-1922

Our World Tuesday  - Textured Tuesday

textured with kk_dreamit

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a Christmas candle

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A Christmas candle is a lovely thing;
It makes no noise at all,
But softly gives itself away.
 

 - Eva Logue

textured with kk_dreamit

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Rosen und Dichter - Arthur Conan Doyle

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“What a lovely thing a rose is!"

He walked past the couch to the open window and held up the drooping stalk of a moss-rose, looking down at the dainty blend of crimson and green. It was a new phase of his character to me, for I had never before seen him show any keen interest in natural objects.

"There is nothing in which deduction is so necessary as religion," said he, leaning with his back against the shutters. "It can be built up as an exact science by the reasoner. Our highest assurance of the goodness of Providence seems to me to rest in the flowers. All other things, our powers, our desires, our food, are all really necessary for our existence in the first instance. But this rose is an extra. Its smell and its color are an embellishment of life, not a condition of it. It is only goodness which gives extras, and so I say again that we have much to hope from the flowers.”

― Arthur Conan Doyle, The Naval Treaty

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