"My Garden" Celia Thaxter

More dear to me than words can tell 

Was every cup and spray and leaf,

Too perfect for a life so brief,

Seemed every star and bud and bell.          -Celia Thaxter “My Garden”

 

The relentless rains have paid off. The air is cool, the gardens are overflowing with blooms, fruit and yes, weeds. (Who are we to discriminate.) But their bounty is exquisite this time of year. Everywhere you turn, blossoms dance with bees and butterflies, bunnies fill themselves on wild strawberries, and lilies and boxwoods perfume the air. 

 


 

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