In blue and yellow from its grave
Springs up the crocus fair,
And God shall raise those bright blue eyes,
Those sunny waves of hair.
Not for a fading summer’s morn,
Not for a fleeting hour,
But for an endless age of bliss,
Shall raise our heart’s dear flower
Harriet Beecher Stowe
To walk out in the garden. To close your eyes and simply breath the smell of spring. Then to discover the magic of blooming crocuses. A wonderful surprise for these were volunteers. It makes them doubly precious. A thrilling gift that brings a bit of happiness to ones day. Spring is indeed here. Oh Joy!
Yay! Spring is coming!!!
That was basically my words this morning. Virginia
Reblogged this on fionagarden1.
How lovely!!!
I shall sneak into your yard in the wee hours of the morning with my tweezers in hand to pluck the stamen from your lovely crocus and whip up some paella! How wonderful that Spring is upon us. It has been a long Winter. The Cupid Party took place last night and was a grand success, though my head feels a bit foggy this morning……could have been the pinot noir! XXXOOO
A bit of fog is small price to pay for The Cupid Party Tin Man. It would have been a glorious affair.. One of the most thoughtful gifts I was given was a large container of saffron. A friend “doctors without borders” had brought it back from Indian for me. I use it lavishly. What a luxury. What a marvelous, wonderful friend. XxOO V.