"I knew a wench married in an afternoon as she went to the garden for parsley to stuff a rabbit, and so may you, sir. . ."
"There's rosemary, that's for remembrance; pray, love, remember. . ."
"I know a bank where the wild thyme blows."
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Cold, rainy night here at Round Rock, and in the Library Valentine Kisses gather on a silver tray.
For two weeks the velvet blooms hung by tiny pink ribbons in the windows, and now the brittle, crackling dainties whisper sweet nothings in their tarnished livery
inciting me to dream of stories I wish to read. . .
. . .or, perhaps, to write?
"He that dares not grasp the thorn
Should never crave the rose."
~Anne Bronte
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Miss Bennett: "Books— oh! no. I am sure we never read the same, or not with the same feelings." 
"I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. . ."
"Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. . . For you alone, I think and plan. "
"My beloved is mine and I am his." ~ Song of Solomon
There are three things that are too amazing for me,
the roses DO whisper, and so does that tarnished plate, love isn't always easy, no rainbows without storms, no roses without thorns, as always, what you wrote, restful – peaceful – whispering good things. thank you Susan. And God bless and keep you and each and every one of yours.
Posted by: Craig | 03/05/2012 at 03:20 PM