Daily Garden Reflections

Spring makes its own statement, so loud and clear that the gardener seems to be only one of the instruments, not the composer.

A lily of a day is fairer far in May, although it fall and die that night—it was the plant and flower of Light. In small proportions we just beauties see.

This is the spirit flower, the ghost of an old regret; all night she stands in the garden-close, and her face with tears is wet.

When you are tempted to look elsewhere for greener pastures, just remember someone else is probably looking at yours.

April rain had laughed the land out of its wintry way, and coaxed all growing things to greet with gracious garb the May.

Lord, I do fear Thou'st made the world so beautiful this year. My soul is all but out of me, let fall no burning leaf; prithee, let no bird call.

I wandered lonely as a cloud that floats on high o'er vales and hills, when all at once I saw a crowd, a host of golden daffodils.

Perhaps you'd like to buy a flower? If you would like to borrow until the daffodil unties her yellow bonnet beneath the village door...

Good morning, Life, and all things glad and beautiful. My pockets nothing hold, but he that owns the gold, the Sun, is my great friend.

He looks on Nature, hearing at her heart, the beautiful beat out the time and place, through which no lesson of this life is hard.

While through life we all are passing, may our lives be always bright like this flower at my window in full bloom.

Nature rarer uses yellow than another hue; saves she all of that for sunsets. Yellow she affords only scantly and selectly, like a lover's words.