Bright is the ring of words
When the right man rings them,
Fair the fall of songs
When the singer sings them.
Still they are carolled and said --
On wings they are carried --
After the singer is dead
And the maker buried.
Low as the singer lies
In the field of heather,
Songs of his fashion bring
The swains together.
And when the west is red
With the sunset embers,
The lover lingers and sings
And the maid remembers.
"Songs of Travel"
Robert Louis Stevenson
Absolitely lovely. Makes me want to run outside instead of sitting here in the computer lab.ReplyDelete
Thanks fpr mentioning me in your last post! Garden spying is a fun hobby, isn't it :)
Oops, I meant to say absolUtely :)jReplyDelete
Kinda love that new word, "absolitely". *chuckle*ReplyDelete
While I was walking through the market, in "shoot, shoot, shoot" -mode, one vendor came closer, and I asked him: "How much for taking one more picture of those lovely roses?". He answered with the sweetest smile, "You sweetened my day already!"
Poor little baby, that has to stay home. *solly*
I have onlu ONE word to say:ReplyDelete
amazingly beautiful.....woops, that's TWO!
Thank you, Julie, and welcome!ReplyDelete
I happened on that little market by chance (waiting for my daughter), and those flowers were simply irresistible.
Aren't you amazed the way life just happens to throw these precious gems to you !ReplyDelete
You take my breath away.... I mean your pics...:)
Good thing I don't have to worry about that one, ran out of breath a long time ago. *grin*
Wonderful! Gorgeous! Stunning photos!ReplyDelete