Loveliest of trees, the cherry now
Is hung with bloom along the bough,
And stands about the woodland ride
Wearing white for Eastertide.
Now, of my three score years and ten,
Twenty will not come again,
And take from seventy springs a score,
It only leaves me fifty more.
And since to look at things in bloom
Fifty springs are little room,
About the woodlands I will go
To see the cherry hung with snow.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
We love blossoms
These nectarine blossoms popped out right around Valentine's day. I've had a big vase full in my entryway ever since. I take blossoms personally--as if God created them just for me. Every time I see them my heart does a little leap. I often think of this poem by AE Housman