The arbor- trellis roses are still blooming their little hearts out.
Perfect sunny days, and mist-laden, cool nights, affording them once last chance at a flush of beauty, before the first frost appears.
Tales of a British expat, transplanted into the lush Tennessee countryside. Lover of old, time-worn, and antique. Tea-drinker, flower-grower, animal-nurturer.
Saturday, September 24, 2022
Holding On
'Tis the last rose of summer
Left blooming alone;
All her lovely companions
Are faded and gone;
No flower of her kindred,
No rosebud is nigh,
To reflect back her blushes,
To give sigh for sigh.
I'll not leave thee, thou lone one!
To pine on the stem;
Since the lovely are sleeping,
Go, sleep thou with them.
Thus kindly I scatter,
Thy leaves o'er the bed,
Where thy mates of the garden
Lie scentless and dead.
So soon may I follow,
When friendships decay,
From Love's shining circle
The gems drop away.
When true hearts lie withered
And fond ones are flown,
Oh! who would inhabit,
This bleak world alone?
The Last Rose of Summer: Thomas Moore 1805
Tuesday, September 20, 2022
Late Summer Days
These last days of Summer, a little decorating, a little gardening, a little relaxing after days of emotional sorrow.
Nights are drawing in fast, dark before the clock strikes seven now.
Our days are still seasonally warm, in these southern United States, giving the opportunity to finish those end of summer chores, before Old Man Winter sets in.
Leaves are beginning to gather, hummingbirds are making their way South, the rhythm of life is noticebly slowing.
Tuesday, September 13, 2022
May You Rest In Eternal Love And Peace HM Queen Elizabeth ll
A lifetime of unparalleled service and duty to the people of the United Kingdom, and its Commonwealth.
" May ' flights of angels sing thee to thy rest .' "
William Shakespeare, Hamlet
~ King Charles lll
Saturday, September 10, 2022
Thursday, September 8, 2022
Thursday, September 1, 2022
September Days
"September days have the warmth of summer in their briefer hours,
But in their lengthening evenings a prophetic breath of autumn.
The cricket chirps in the noontide, making the most of what remains of his brief life.
The bumblebee is busy among the clover blossoms of the aftermath,
And their shrill and dreamy hum hold the outdoor world above the voices of the song birds,
Now silent or departed."-
The cricket chirps in the noontide, making the most of what remains of his brief life.
The bumblebee is busy among the clover blossoms of the aftermath,
And their shrill and dreamy hum hold the outdoor world above the voices of the song birds,
Now silent or departed."-
~ September Days : Rowland E. Robinson, Vermont
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