The English Boxwood are still there.........................

What's the history behind this, Letty? It sounds a little whistful.

My home in Virginia, fortune. No, it's not wistful, honey. My dad planted the boxwood and they were so small. They grow slowly, you know, and now they are huge. My husband and my son planted the Spruces after Christmas--one for him and one for me. I always weave a melody into my poetry.

From Letty with love.

Reminds me of the oak tree I planted with my dad

Hi Letty, I like the way you weave melodies into your poetry.
When I moved into my home the backyard was so barren until I planted four spruce trees.

A smile, colorbook and stuh. When talking to my daughter tonight, I thought of this song. She plays guitar and sings it to this day:





Lady, are you crying, do the tears belong to me
Did you think our time together was all gone
Lady, you've been dreaming, I'm as close as I can be
I swear to you our time has just begun

Close your eyes and rest your weary mind
I promise I will stay right here beside you
Today our lives were joined, became entwined
I wish you could know how much I love you

Lady, are you happy, do you feel the way I do
Are there meanings that you've never seen before
Lady, my sweet lady, I just can't believe it's true
And it's like I've never ever loved before

Close your eyes and rest your weary mind
I promise I will stay right here beside you
Today our lives were joined, became entwined
I wish you could know how much I love you

Lady, are you crying, do the tears belong to me
Did you think our time together was all gone
Lady, my sweet lady, I'm as close as I can be
I swear to you our time has just begun.

The Rites of Spring and John Denver--that's the way it should be. sooooo. Plant your trees and sing your songs. Watch them glisten, all mind long.

Frances has a song to sing,
The dissonance of majestic things.

Enough, already, Letty.

.

Letty, that's sweet

A beautiful song and an even more evocative poem, Letty. I'm very glad that you shared it with us.

Wonderful poem, Letty. When I was a wee apprentice at Eiginsinn Farm, I thought naively that the legacy I would leave behind would be my cooking. It turned out to be a line of Spruce trees I planted, that are huge now, and quite beautiful, so I've heard from chef.

Good morning, all.

drom, as usual, I always appreciate your comments. Thank you, my versatile friend.

Cav. I was trying to remember a short story that I once read called "Testimony of Trees". I can't think of a more beautiful legacy than your spruces, nor your ability to turn a sow's ear into something delectable.