“The Mystic Rose” I, woman, am that wonder-breathing rose That blossoms in the garden of the King. In all the world there is no lovelier thing, And the learned stars no secret can disclose Deeper than mine–that almost no one knows. The perfume of my petals in the spring Is inspiration to all bards that…
A White Rose THE red rose whispers of passion, And the white rose breathes of love; O, the red rose is a falcon, And the white rose is a dove. But I send you a cream-white rosebud With a flush on its petal tips; For the love that is purest and sweetest Has a kiss…
Near shady wall a rose once grew
Budded and blossomed in God’s free light,
Watered and fed by morning dew
Shedding its sweetness day and night.
Each form you see has its unseen archetype.
If the form is transient, its essence is eternal.
When June comes dancing o’er the death of May,
With scarlet roses tinting her green breast,
And mating thrushes ushering in her day,
And Earth on tiptoe for her golden guest,
“Potpourri” A rose just died… But it’s not the end! Dry petals’ scent remains: A gift in a pretty jar! Amira “Popurrí” Una rosa acaba de morir … ¡Pero no es el final! El aroma de pétalos secos permanece: Un regalo en un hermoso frasco! Amira
“Essential Oils” Peppermint, lavender, rose… Evoke different moods, Comfort and restore. ___ Liquid drops of Mother Nature Healing essence: A therapeutic Present! Amira “Aceites esenciales” Menta, lavanda, rosa … Evocan diferentes estados de ánimo, Comfortan y restauran. ___ Gotas líquidas de la madre naturaleza Esencia curativa: Un regalo terapéutico! Amira This…
“A fresh croissant” A fresh croissant, Steamy coffee, a single rose… mmmhhh…Am I in France? Amira “Un croissant fresco” (media luna) “Un croissant fresco, Café humeante, una sola rosa … mmmhhh … ¿Estoy en Francia? Amira
“In the garden” Fragrant rose perfumes the air… the Spirit soars! Amira En el jardín Rosa fragante perfuma el aire… el Espíritu se eleva! Amira
Originally posted on Inspiring Stories:
A certain man planted a rose and watered it faithfully, and before it blossomed, he examined it. He saw the bud that would soon blossom and also the thorns. And he thought, How can any beautiful flower come from a plant burdened with so many sharp thorns Saddened by this…
Its the heart afraid of breaking, that never learns to dance, Its the dream afraid of waking, that never takes the chance
Rough is the road I am journeying now,
Heavy the burden I’m bearing to-day;
But I’m humming a song, as I wander along,
And I smile at the roses that nod by the way.