Sep 2, 2014

Sweet Summer Rain....

 After a long blog break
I feel refreshed,
recharged...
 
I would love to say
I tackled a lot of neglected projects...
 
but really,
the lazy days of summer
just consumed me...
 


after a hot and dry summer,
a few days of Sweet Summer Rain
have the garden feeling refreshed,
recharged...
 




 
in the endless hot dry days
(and my laziness)
the rose branches grew long and lanky...
 
the summer rain
 bending them...
 


until,
they succumbed to the temptation
of just lying in the Sweet Alyssum...
 







 
Brother Cadfael,
is a rose that struggled to be happy in the garden...
 
this year it has been covered
 in these big cupped roses...
 
a pure delight!
it has jumped right onto my favorites list...

 
I am in no hurry to charge into fall...
 
I plan to hold onto Summer as long as I can...
 
 
Thanks for stopping by....

Jul 7, 2014

Beautiful Hours Move so Quickly...

Summer has only just begun...
 
I promised myself,
this summer....
 
I will soak it up more...
 
 
I've spent a couple lazy weeks
doing just that...
 


 
taking time to
Smell the Roses...
 


 
on this lazy Monday afternoon,
I thought to share them with you....
 
these Roses were from a bouquet
last month...
 
photos
I never got around to editing then...
 


 



 
Summer moves so quickly
doesn't it?
 

 
"Beautiful hours move so quickly.”
― Irene Hunt
 
 
 
Stop and Smell the Roses...

Jun 27, 2014

Eden Rose...

 
I gave my Eden arbor a big
tidying up...
 
treating myself to the remainder of blooms...
 


The Eden Rose's
formal name is Pierre de Ronsard,
in tribute to the famous French Poet...
 
my friends on the other side of the pond
 always remind me of so much...
 


 


 




Pierre de Ronsard (1524-1585), French poet


SONNETS FOR HÉLÈNE

When you are truly old, beside the evening candle,
Sitting by the fire, winding wool and spinning,
Murmuring my verses, you’ll marvel then, in saying,
“Long ago, Ronsard sang to me, when I was beautiful.”

There’ll be no serving-girl of yours, who hears it all,
Even if, tired from toil, she’s already drowsing,
Fails to rouse at the sound of my name’s echoing,
And blesses your name, then, with praise immortal.

I’ll be under the earth, a boneless phantom,
At rest in the myrtle groves of the dark kingdom¹:
You’ll be an old woman hunched over the fire,

Regretting my love for you, your fierce disdain,
So live, believe me: don’t wait for another day,
Gather them now the roses of life, and desire.






 
tonight I am linking to
 
 
Take Time to Smell the Roses...