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A heart in love with beauty never grows old
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Spring Tulips
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~ A Mother's Heart is always with her Children ~
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Intrique
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Grace
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The radiance in some places is so great as to be fairly dazzling . . . every crystal, every flower a window opening into heaven, a mirror reflecting the Creator.
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What is lovely never dies, But passes into other loveliness, Star-dust, or sea-foam, flower or winged air...
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Each moment of the year has its own beauty . . .
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The day the Lord created Hope was probably the same day He created Spring
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"Everything is blooming most recklessly; if it were voices instead of colors, there would be an unbelievable shrieking into the heart of the night."
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Here deathless love and passion sleep......
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Everytime you go, you take a little piece of my heart........
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Of all the flowers, I love wildflowers the most. They are so intricate and colorful. Maybe God made them small so we would have to seek them out, spend a little time with them and really look at them closely to discover their beauty.
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Have I told you lately that I love you.........
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So fall asleep love,
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Simplicity
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And Spring arose on the garden fair,
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Nature is man's teacher. She unfolds her treasures to his search, unseals his eye, illumes his mind, and purifies his heart; an influence breathes from all the sights and sounds of her existence.
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~~~ In a Garden in the Spring, Flowers bloom and Bluebirds sing ~~~
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Friendship is the breathing rose, with sweets in every fold.....
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Amor, Amour, Amore ..........
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I had a dream of rose tipped petals......
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~~~ The love we give away is the only love we keep ~~~
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She wore a wreath of roses.......
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It was not in the winter, our loving lot was cast. It was the time of roses, we pluck'd them as we pass'd.
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The temple bell stops but I still hear the sound coming out of the flowers.
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Beauty is a gift from God.
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~I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape - the loneliness of it, the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it, the whole story doesn't show. ~
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I wish I might a rose-bud grow And thou wouldst cull me from the bower. To place me on that breast of snow Where I should bloom a wintry flower
