
Great is the sun, and wide he goes
Through empty heaven with repose;
And in the blue and glowing days
More thick than rain he showers his rays.
Though closer still the blinds we pull
To keep the shady parlour cool,
Yet he will find a chink or two
To slip his golden fingers through.
The dusty attic spider-clad
He, through the keyhole, maketh glad;
And through the broken edge of tiles
Into the laddered hay-loft smiles.
Meantime his golden face around
He bares to all the garden ground,
And sheds a warm and glittering look
Among the ivy’s inmost nook.
Above the hills, along the blue,
Round the bright air with footing true,
To please the child, to paint the rose,
The gardener of the World, he goes.
Robert Louis Stevenson

Gorgeous!
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Thanks! 🙂
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HAPPY DAY 🙂
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Felice la giornata inizia con voi . 🙂
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my favourite rose colour!! Stunningly beautiful – and the poem! I love R.L. Stevenson
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Thanks Cybele, I like him also. 🙂
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Thank you for liking “Change” and “Grass Geometry.” The photo and the poem are wonderful. I have a rose like this in my garden. It smells nice too. 🙂
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You’re welcome and thank you for commenting. Nothing better than the sweet smell of a rose.
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You are welcome too. Yes, I do enjoy fragrant roses, but I also like the smell of other flowers such as gardenia, honeysuckle, and lilac. 🙂
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Beautiful poem
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Thank you.
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gorgeous!
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Thanks Cindy.
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