| Tiptoe through the tulips. |
[18 Apr 2006|03:19pm] |
The sunbeams, lost for half a year,
Slant through my pane their morning rays;
For dry Northwesters cold and clear,
The East blows in its thin blue haze.
--[See the proud tulip's flaunting cup,
That flames in glory for an hour,--
Behold it withering,--then look up,--
How meek the forest-monarch's flower!--
When wake the violets, Winter dies;
When sprout the elm-buds, Spring is near;
When lilacs blossom, Summer cries,
"Bud, little roses! Spring is here!"]
Oliver Wendell Holmes
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| "Just a whisper, whisper, whisper, whisper." |
[17 Nov 2003|12:37am] |
| [ |
mood |
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this is what I need |
] |
My journal is now friends-only. For some reason, I feel it's time. Leave a comment if you're dying to be added, not like there's anyone that I can think of that would be, but yeah, anyway - not much else to say.
'Night friends.
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misskaitlin's journal