I Love These Flowers
• 05/10/24 at 05:53PM •Flowers brought to my garden,
by creatures. Thank you.
Flowers brought to my garden,
by creatures. Thank you.
Some yellow Columbine's bloomed into view.
A true color, exotic shape I see
And then another one, with a smaller flower,
Black as night and has the power
To keep me going; looking all around
And discover another Columbine, that does abound
I dream of golden flowers,
marked with summer rays,
mottled with the shadows,
from trees in one array.
Why must we wait,
until the spring has sprung,
when we could still have flowers,
of Primrose, and Hyacinths, young?
Flowers will bloom,
in early Spring.
Oh, the joys,
warm days will bring.
Daffodils will raise
their trumpet high,
as Spring comes,
making a floral sky.
Tulips will be next,
when they grow,
putting on a,
Spring floral show.
Been planting flowers,
for several days,
cleaning out pots,
enjoying Sunrays.
I love English Bluebells,
growing under the trees
and how they have multiplied,
providing beauty to please.
To please the senses
of all we see,
with a lovely fragrance,
for you and me.
No matter
where is grows.
No matter the scene,
a Rose is a Rose.
Growing in the garden,
or in morning light,
it retains its beauty,
all day and all night.
The 53 acre Bellevue Botanical Garden was established in 1992 and It is located east of downtown Bellevue on Main Street. It consists of several smaller gardens - each of them with its own character and focus. Read more
Come forth the morning.
Bring in a new dawn.
Let the Sunbeams,
create brightness and shadow,
while making us warm,
may a warm rain appear, as
the garden is thirsty.
Late February,
frost is back.
Need more Sun,
warming the soil,
helping new growth,
survive and heal.
Broad the spectrum
of Winter display
of yellows and reds,
providing a colorful array.
So, this is the new cycle,
of snow on the ground.
A white assassin,
is what has been found.
The new growth
of yellow Daffodils,
covered with snow,
as they try to bloom.
Cold conditions, with ice,
may kill off the blooms,
while new tulips appear,
retarded by the gloom,
of non-sunny days,
bringing heat to warm,
does little to bring the
climate back to norm.
My garden spade.
A work of art,
broke when I
tried to lift a rock.
The tool was strong,
until it busted,
for the handle
had simply, rusted.