Came the spring with all it's splendor,
All it's birds and all it's blossoms,
All it's flowers and leaves and grasses...
~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow~
Every one who knows me well, I mean knows me really well, knows I love poetry. They have known me to swoon over a well constructed sentence, a clever turn of a phrase, a metaphor that shines like the sun. They have known me to speak in rhyme for no reason and answer an email in prose. They say, it may be my affliction....like a weakness for musicians, or having to smell every rose I pass.
It is my firm belief that spring is the Earth's way of writing poetry. With every crocus, tulip and daffodil that pokes up from the wet earth, she says, "Look! Behold what beauty! Do you see?" With every cherry blossom that unfurls it's pink petals she whispers,
" Blossom. Go ahead. You can."
Every one who knows me well, I mean knows me really well knows I love spring. They say, it may be my affliction.....like a love for flowers and honey off the spoon.
Happy Spring! Blossom.Go ahead. You can.
~ Sarina xo~