grange de charme
nathan pres
dietland wolf
dubletti
marilyn browning
helen lyon on blogspot
jill emery on etsy
child at typewriter
hi everyone, the weeks go by so fast. i keep trying to hold ever so tightly onto each spring day to somehow capture them and keep them beside me.....so they won't hurry away so fast, but the days swift by me so quickly as if they are running a race and leave me laughingly behind them. i should live in a culture and a place that has endless days of sun and warmth and masses amounts of flowers and greenery because winter puts a weight of terrible sadness upon me at times. it is beautiful in it's own stark, quiet way, but spring and summer are alive to me and my heart never tires of them......only delighting in each bright and beautiful moment like i were a little child again. sunshine, birds singing, the green of leaves in a tree so much huger and prolific than i......these things and all the hidden secrets of summer that lie behind each afternoon......pull me away from this ancient room where my soul screams and tires to leave from. oh that i would flee this place, to find the glorious and beautiful summer meadow where all is bright and shining and new.
nathan pres
dietland wolf
dubletti
child
helen lyon on blogspot
jill emery on etsy
child at typewriter
hi everyone, the weeks go by so fast. i keep trying to hold ever so tightly onto each spring day to somehow capture them and keep them beside me.....so they won't hurry away so fast, but the days swift by me so quickly as if they are running a race and leave me laughingly behind them. i should live in a culture and a place that has endless days of sun and warmth and masses amounts of flowers and greenery because winter puts a weight of terrible sadness upon me at times. it is beautiful in it's own stark, quiet way, but spring and summer are alive to me and my heart never tires of them......only delighting in each bright and beautiful moment like i were a little child again. sunshine, birds singing, the green of leaves in a tree so much huger and prolific than i......these things and all the hidden secrets of summer that lie behind each afternoon......pull me away from this ancient room where my soul screams and tires to leave from. oh that i would flee this place, to find the glorious and beautiful summer meadow where all is bright and shining and new.
Comments
Post a Comment