It brings a smile to my lips when I drive by and there is a happy daffodil, waving his head at me. I have been known to always have a bucket and shovel in the back of my vehicle.... you never know when it might be needed. It costs hardly anything and gives back in abundance. The next time you see a sprinkle of bulbs in the middle of nowhere, just know some who loves flowers just couldn't resist.
Beneath the cold, they lay in wait
Maybe today, then again, not.
The blooms will come when time is right
Dream the dream again tonight
Sun and shine stand in the way
In making this
A winters day
Today
I know it seems crazy and who will ever see them? I will! I can tell you that I plant them in the lonliest places to that, you too can enjoy the delight of them shaking their yellow heads.
All I have are my words, armed in my mind, written in pen, stand by stand. Oh, yes. Still by hand. It has a different feel. Altered not by keys, backspace, and delete, I write, erase, tear it to pieces and start all over again. And again.
Thank you for visiting my post 馃挅
Shall I compare thee to a summer鈥檚 day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer鈥檚 lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed,
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature鈥檚 changing course untrimmed:
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow鈥檚t,
Nor shall death brag thou wander鈥檚t in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow鈥檚t,
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
Shakespeare