Taste the beauty

berry interesting (1)

Photo by Richard Fogg

Go out, go out I beg of you
And taste the beauty of the wild.
Behold the miracle of the earth
With all the wonder of a child.
~ Edna Jaques

Thou art but a tinted ecstasy

dfly flwrz (1)

Photo by Richard Fogg

 

O fluttering, gauzy mystery,
Frail-winged creature, glimmering, fleeing,
Thou art but a tinted ecstasy,—
A joy with life and a tireless being.

Thou hast no purpose to guide thy flight,
Nor does thy folly demand forgiving.
Thy wings must beat with thy heart’s delight
In the glorious rapture of merely living!
~ Ruby Archer.

Patience Taught By Nature

eagle crat (1)

Photo by Richard Fogg

“O Dreary life!” we cry, “O dreary life!”
And still the generations of the birds
Sing through our sighing, and the flocks and herds
Serenely live while we are keeping strife
With Heaven’s true purpose in us, as a knife
Against which we may struggle. Ocean girds
Unslackened the dry land: savannah-swards
Unweary sweep: hills watch, unworn; and rife
Meek leaves drop yearly from the forest-trees,
To show, above, the unwasted stars that pass
In their old glory. O thou God of old!
Grant me some smaller grace than comes to these;—
But so much patience, as a blade of grass
Grows by contented through the heat and cold.
~ Elizabeth Barrett Browning

The dust of the aeons

butte sunset (1)

Photo by Richard Fogg

Have you slept in a tent alone—a tent
Out under the desert sky—
Where a thousand thousand desert miles
All silent round you lie?—
The dust of the aeons of ages dead,
And the peoples that trampled by?

Have you looked in the desert’s painted cup,
Have you smelled at dawn the wild sage musk,
Have you seen the lightning flashing up
From the ground in the desert dusk?

Have you heard the song in the desert rain
(Like the undertone of a wordless rhyme?)
Have you watched the glory of colors flame
In its marvel of blossom time?

Have you lain with your face in your hands, afraid,
Face down—flat down on your face—and prayed,
While the terrible sand storm whirled and swirled
In its soundless fury, and hid the world
And quenched the sun in its yellow glare—
Just you, and your soul, and nothing, there?

If you have, then you know, for you’ve felt its spell,
The lure of the desert land,
And if you have not, then I could not tell—
For you could not understand.

~ Madge Morris Wagner

This is the Song of the Bee

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Photo by Richard Fogg

Buzz! buzz! buzz!
This is the song of the bee.
His legs are of yellow;
A jolly, good fellow,
And yet a great worker is he.

Buzz! buzz! buzz!
From morning’s first light
Till the coming of night,
He’s singing and toiling
The summer day through.
Oh! we may get weary,
And think work is dreary;
‘Tis harder by far
To have nothing to do.
~ Marian Douglas.

All the thirsty world imploring

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Photo by Richard Fogg

Come and marvel at the sunset!
Lo—a storm is brooding near,—
All the thirsty world imploring,
In a mood akin to fear…

See the weirdly golden essence
Lurk along, the shades between,
‘Till it drowns and rolls above them
In triumphant glare of sheen.
~ Ruby Archer

The Chiffchaff Sings

brd mnch (1)

Photo by Richard Fogg

sunflower heart
the chiffchaff sings
its name
~ Alan Summers.

Did you make a wish?

Look, a butterfly. Did you make a wish?
You don’t wish on butterflies.
You do so. Did you make one?
Yes.
~ Louise Gluck

bfly eat (1)

Photo by Richard Fogg

 

Fragile petals

Love may be wind-tossed as a blue flax flower,
Or hold its fragile petals but an hour,
Vanish with frost; still, roots that drink the rain,
Eternal as ours, will live…and bloom again.
~ Mary L. Kienholz.

lil blu orng (1)

Photo by Richard Fogg

Downy came and dwelt with me

lil pek bg hole (1)

Photo by Richard Fogg

Downy came and dwelt with me,
Taught me hermit lore;
Drilled his cell in oaken tree
Near my cabin door.

Carved it deep and shaped it true
With his little bill;
Took no thought about the view,
Whether dale or hill.

Shook the chips upon the ground,
Careless who might see,
Hark! his hatchet’s muffled sound
Hewing in the tree.

Round his door as compass-mark,
True and smooth his wall;
Just a shadow on the bark
Points you to his hall.
~ John Burroughs