February: Thinking of Flowers (Jane Kenyon Poem)
Now wind torments the field, turning the white surface back on itself, back and back on itself, like an animal ...
Now wind torments the field, turning the white surface back on itself, back and back on itself, like an animal ...
For an entire year she dressed in all the shades Of ash - the gray of old paper; the deeper, ...
The rich color of the oak the leaves before their falling shining in the morning brightly in the sun Like ...
The crushed rose gathered yet so much living yet resting on the sleeve of my jacket taken off for the ...
In the road a broken rose picked probably yesterday A deep rich color of blood red, burgundy lying there, out ...
A vine, a burgundy bramble blackberry bushes, tall, in the fall sun shiny burgundy, yellow, green leaves standing tall, as ...
nothing some much as burgundy bouquets clusters of the rhododendrons like the bows put on the paper plates at the ...
A vine, a burgundy bramble blackberry bushes, tall, in the fall sun shiny burgundy, yellow, green leaves standing tall, as ...
Looking up, hard to differentiate a saturation of burgundy blooms the crab apple rich color the petals, the stamen, the ...
It looked to be a leaf from last fall bright red maroon burgundy maple yes, it was a mix of ...
Nothing other than cranberry, well, maybe candy apple, could describe the maple on the corner Ablaze in saturated red deep, ...
A red, red rose, posing in the vase on the counter a reminder of the beauty of summer of the ...
Surrounded by prickers, thorns tugging on my coat, my jeans lowering myself to the dark small fruit gathering in, berry ...
A trip to the Isles of Shoals September, after the hurricanes warm tropical water sea foam bright, southern a different ...
A mat of green, burgundy, and brown Covered the skin of the once open water Of the marsh, cut off ...
From a pure royal blue, to a spectrum of rust pale canary yellow, bleeds to burgundy and finally cobalt sudden ...
We -- Bee and I -- live by the quaffing -- 'Tisn't all Hock -- with us -- Life has ...
My jolly fat host with your face all a-grin, Come, open the door to us, let us come in. A ...
Thee the ancientest peer, Duke of Burgundy, rose from the monarch's right hand, red as wines From his mountains; an ...
84 Thee the ancientest peer, Duke of Burgundy, rose from the monarch's right hand, red as wines 85 From his ...
A solitary apartment house, the last one before the boulevard ends and a dusty road winds its slow way out ...
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