My dad grows a wonderful garden every summer. This year he added some flowers to it. (Such a pretty shade of pink....don't ya think!) Dad's such a great gardener. I'm hoping that someday It will rub off on me. In the meantime, NO green thumbs here! Although I have done pretty good with the grass this summer if I do say so myself. :) Here's a poem that I thought fit perfect!
~SEPTEMBER~
"The breezes taste
Of apple peel.
The air is full
Of smells to feel-
Ripe fruit, old footballs,
Burning brush,
New books, erasers,
Chalk, and such.
The bee, his hive,
Well-honeyed hum,
And Mother cuts
Chrysanthemums.
Like plates washed clean
With suds, the days
Are polished with
A morning haze."
-John Updike-