My neighbor’s wall is a cascade of morning glories. The name is so perfect for this flower. It’s color is royalty and beyond words in beauty and
From the Master’s hand a work of art. It did not make itself. It stands a silent message of worship and contentment. “Don’t worship me for I’m like you, a reflection of the One whose heart and hand and breath has inspired the sum. We all reflect in part the majesty and wisdom of our great God.
I planted bulbs on Sunday. I planted them in hope. I planted for the joy of life and color and beauty in my yard. The gladiolus will grow five feet tall so I placed them in the rear to shout with firm conviction “Hello! I’m over here! ” The coolest thing about the glad is they are cutting plants and I think that means they grow a lot and love to be cut and shared.
The next are gorgeous peony. They grow ’bout 3 feet tall with full sweet rose like faces you’ ll want to kiss them all. In front of them are callas so pretty, slim and sweet. Their graceful flutes endear me and really speak of chic.
The crocosmia, a zesty red, call humming birds to come and that means fun and noise and flutter beneath the summer sun.
For now the bulbs are all tucked in beneath the fertile beds and I will water, feed and search each day for their pretty little heads.
When all are up and the choir sings I’ll send their pics your way and you can judge if my dream came true from this lovely planting day.
Sweet Camilla shy and soft and dear. How you bend in deference to all who would come near. You have no barb to defend you. No will to resist the hand that plucks you from your verdant home or say no to its demand But you are pure and simple beauty yes , inside and out. For I desire to be like you and all you are about. .