Sunday, 13 September 2015
My September Garden . . .
In Spring I thought my garden was
a Paradise sublime . . .
In June I said the time of roses
was the sweetest time . . .
Now as I go strolling past
the border by the wall . . .
I declare my autumn garden is
the best garden of all . . .
Shaggy headed dahlias
in every tint and tone . . .
flaunt their gay and gaudy blooms
against the old grey stone.
in copper, pink and white . . .
weave about the berried shrubs
a pattern, rich and bright.
Daisies, mauve for Michaelmass . . .
the sunflowers' wild display,
the fountains of the golden rod . . .
no wonder that I say
My september garden,
with its colours, bold and clear . . .
is the loveliest of all,
the climax of the year.
No time to really write much this morning. I slept in an hour later than I normally do and we have church to get ready for, but I could not let the day pass without at least a small message to you!
In The English Kitchen today . . . . Dutch Apple Turnovers.
Have a beautiful Sunday and I'll catch up with you tomorrow! Don't forget!
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And I do too. God bless you all!