I would that it to me were givenTo climb each day the muezzin's stairAnd in the warm and silent airTo sing my heart out into Heaven.
~ Vita Sackville-West
Painting: The Muezzin by Jean-Leon Gerome
And the wind upon its way whispered the boughs of may,And touched the nodding peony-flowers to bid them waken.
~ Siegfried Sassoon
Modest bud, still fresh with morning,You are like a maid I know.
~ Fred Lewis Pattee
Miles and miles of golden greenWhere the sunflowers blowIn a solid glow.
~ Robert Browning
Here's the spring back or close,When the almond-blossom blows.
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
~ William Shakespeare
For after all, the best thing one can doWhen it is raining, is to let it rain.
~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
A rainy day is the perfect time for a walk in the woods.
~ Rachel Carson
I want you to make love, not war,I know you've heard it before.
~ John Lennon
The ripest peach is highest on the tree –And so her love, beyond the reach of me,Is dearest in my sight. Sweet breezes, bowHer heart down to me where I worship now!
~ James Whitcomb Riley
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose
~ E. E. Cummings
Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white.
~ Alfred Lord Tennyson
Gay little heart!Like morning gloryThou'll wilted be; thou'll wilted be!
~ Emily Dickinson
Summer set lip to earth's bosom bare,And left the flushed print in a poppy there;Like a yawn of fire from the grass it came,And the fanning wind puffed it to flapping flame.
~ Francis Thompson
The violets in the mountains have broken the rocks!
~ Tennessee Williams
And in yonder marshes burnsThe fiery-flaming marigold.
~ Dora Read Goodale
Between my finger and my thumbThe squat pen rests.I'll dig with it.
~ Seamus Heaney
A drainless showerOf light is poesy.
~ John Keats
She smelled of sun and daisiesWith a hint of river water.
~ Katie Daisy
The older I grow the more do I love spring and spring flowers. Is it so with you?
O flower-de-luce, bloom on, and let the riverLinger to kiss thy feet!O flower of song, bloom on, and make foreverThe world more fair and sweet.
I met her in the greenest dells,Where dewdrops pearl the wood bluebells.
~ John Clare
In the deep shadow of the porchA slender bindweed springs,And climbs, like airy acrobat,The trellises, and swingsAnd dances in the golden sunIn fairy loops and rings.
~ Susan Coolidge
The budding twigs spread out their fan,To catch the breezy air.
~ William Wordsworth
See these springing violets rise,Animated by thy eyes.
~ William Pattison
O happiest transport, dearest blessing,Sweetest-rapture past expressing!Who can tell the thrilling pleasure,When the nymph resigns her treasure!When she melts in ripen'd blisses,Breathing out her soul in kisses!
How I love all of you! Do you feel me wrap youUp with myself and my warmth, like a flame round the wick?
~ D. H. Lawrence
And far and wide, in a scarlet tide,The poppy's bonfire spread.
~ Bayard Taylor
The poppies hungDew-dabbled on their stalks.
Within the woods,Whose young and half-transparent leaves scarce castA shade, gay circles of anemonesDanced on their stalks.
~ William Cullen Bryant
The pedigree of honeyDoes not concern the bee;A clover, any time, to himIs aristocracy.
In Nature's infinite book of secrecyA little I can read.
Painting: Forest King by Andrey Shishkin
And winking Mary-buds beginTo ope their golden eyes:With every thing that pretty is,My lady sweet, arise.
And every secret Nature told,Of golden wisdom's power,Is nestled still in every fold,Within the Lotos flower.
~ William Winter
What airs outblown from ferny dellsAnd clover-bloom and sweetbrier smells.
~ John Greenleaf Whittier
To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee,One clover, and a bee,And revery.The revery alone will doIf bees are few.
The buttercups, bright-eyed and bold,Held up their chalices of goldTo catch the sunshine and the dew.
~ Julia C. R. Dorr
And in the woods a fragrance rareOf wild azaleas fills the air.
In the marsh pink orchid's faces,With their coy and dainty graces,Lure us to their hiding places –Laugh, O murmuring Spring!
~ Sarah F. Davis
The aster greets us as we passWith her faint smile.
~ Sarah Helen Whitman
Underneath an apple-treeSat a maiden and her lover;And the thoughts within her heYearned, in silence, to discover.
~ Will Carleton
Blossom of the almond trees,April's gift to April's bees.
~ Edwin Arnold
Primrose-eyes each morning opeIn their cool, deep beds of grass.
~ James Bayard Taylor
The meadows fill with cowslips,The grass excessive green.
There were flowers in her hairLike an April diadem.
~ Letitia Elizabeth Landon
I've watched you now a full half-hour;Self-poised upon that yellow flowerAnd, little Butterfly! indeedI know not if you sleep or feed.
Lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove.
~ Leonard Cohen
Drawing: The Face Of Peace X by Pablo Picasso
Twould soften hearts if they were hard as stoneTo see glad butterflies and smiling flowers.
What would the world be, once bereftOf wet and of wildness? Let them be left,O let them be left, wildness and wet;Long live the weeds and the wilderness yet.
~ Gerard Manley Hopkins
The tulip and the butterflyAppear in gayer coats than I:Let me be dressed fine as I will,Flies, worms, and flowers exceed me still.
~ Isaac Watts