Ode To A Golden Summer

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
~William Shakespeare

Fairest of the months! 
Ripe summer's queen
The hey-day of the year
With robes that gleam with sunny sheen
Sweet August doth appear.
~R. Combe Miller

Whilst August yet wears her golden crown,
    Ripening fields lush- bright with promise;
Summer waxes long, then wanes, quietly passing
    Her fading green glory on to riotous Autumn.
~Michelle L. Thieme

If you saw a heat wave, would you wave back? 
~Steven Wright 

Welcome to August. A 100+ degrees in the shade and very little rain makes for sweltering photography trips. It is mostly sweat and sunburn. There might be a couple of 2-hour windows where the temperature is bearable and there is still light outside. Did I hear someone say "bring on October"?...maybe November, here. Well, it is the golden month. So many golden, yellow, sunny and lemon-colored flowers to follow in the next few weeks. Promise to be more faithful in posting. Have a good weekend. Go out and make it a great day!

Simply Sunflower

Bring me then the plant that points to those bright Lucidites swirling up from the earth,

And life itself exhaling that central breath!
Bring me the sunflower crazed with the love of light.
~Eugenio Montale

Every friend is to the other a sun, and a sunflower also. He attracts and follows. ~Jean Paul Richter 

The gaudy leonine sunflower

Hangs black and barren on its stalk, 

And down the windy garden walk

The dead leaves scatter, hour by hour.

~Oscar Wilde

The sunflower is mine, in a way.

~Vincent van Gogh

Hibiscus Flowers

Hibiscus Flowers where ever I look,

Reds and blues and the pretty white, 

Freshly taken from a picture book,

They fill me with great delight.

Indoor Hibiscus Flower delicate yellow, 

Potted plants in my snug flat,

Great beauty that turns me mellow, 

To all Gardeners I take off my hat.

The hibiscus is a flower to please, 

Grown in a warm and temperate clime.

Reds, blues and whites to tease, 

With glowing colours so sublime.

~Bernard Shaw

Glory of the Garden

Our England is a garden that is full of stately views,
Of borders, beds and shrubberies and lawns and avenues,
With statues on the terraces and peacocks strutting by;
But the Glory of the Garden lies in more than meets the eye.

For where the old thick laurels grow, along the thin red wall,
You will find the tool and potting sheds which are the heart of all;
The cold-frames and the hot-houses, the dungpits and the tanks:
The rollers, carts and drain-pipes, with the barrows and the planks.

And there you'll see the gardeners, the men and 'prentice boys

Told off to do as they are bid and do it without noise;

For, except when seeds are planted and we shout to scare the birds,
The Glory of the Garden it abideth not in words.

And some can pot begonias and some can bud a rose,
And some are hardly fit to trust with anything that grows;
But they can roll and trim the lawns and sift the sand and loam,
For the Glory of the Garden occupieth all who come.

Our England is a garden, and such gardens are not made

By singing:--"Oh, how beautiful!" and sitting in the shade,
While better men than we go out and start their working lives
At grubbing weeds from gravel-paths with broken dinner-knives.

There's not a pair of legs so thin, there's not a head so thick,
There's not a hand so weak and white, nor yet a heart so sick.
But it can find some needful job that's crying to be done,
For the Glory of the Garden glorifieth every one.

Then seek your job with thankfulness and work till further orders,

If it's only netting strawberries or killing slugs on borders;
And when your back stops aching and your hands begin to harden,
You will find yourself a partner in the Glory of the Garden.

Oh, Adam was a gardener, and God who made him sees
That half a proper gardener's work is done upon his knees,
So when your work is finished, you can wash your hands and pray
For the Glory of the Garden, that it may not pass away!
And the Glory of the Garden it shall never pass away!

~Rudyard Kipling

A Warm Day in July

The year is half o'er

when enters July,

Demure in her manner, 

sweet, gracious and shy.

Casting bright mellow warmth

over mountain and rill, 

And the last rose of summer

that's lingering still.

There is no fairer day

nor radiant sky

Than is found in the keeping

of blissful July.

For it's then that the larkspur

and buttercups bloom; 

Then songbirds sing best

and the world is in tune.

The air then is balmiest, 

trees are the greenest,

Flowers are prettiest

and life is serenest.

Then together midyear and 

midsummer pass by.

Oh, lackadaisical soulful July.

~Ruth Hathaway Miller

Earth's Little Sunburst

The flower which is single need not envy 

the thorns that are numerous.
~Rabindranath Tagore

A weed is no more than a flower in disguise,
Which is seen through at once, 

if love give a man eyes.
~James Russell Lowell

That though the radiance which was once 

so bright be now forever taken from my sight. Though nothing can bring back the hour of splendor in the grass, glory in the flower. We will grieve not,
rather find strength in what remains behind.
~William Wordsworth

A flower cannot blossom without sunshine,
and man cannot live without love.
~Max Muller 

Trumpet Vision

With the pride of the artist, you must blow
against the walls of every power that exists
the small trumpet of your defiance.
~Norman Mailer

The very essence of leadership is that you have to have vision. You can't blow an uncertain trumpet.
~Theodore Hesburgh

Leadership is an opportunity to serve.
It is not a trumpet call to self-importance.
~J. Donald Walters
 

If you wish in this world to advance your merits
you're bound to enhance; You must stir it
and stump it, and blow your own trumpet,
Or, trust me, you haven't a chance.
~William Gilbert