Loveliness is everywhere you just have to look around you in God’s creation we see beauty, love, hope and eternity. In our Promise Gardens it is filled with life, color, aroma, art and life from birth to death, creation at its best and worst. How blessed are we to be able to create, sow, seed, grow and tend the generous supply of creation our God’s has given us. It is WHY we love the creation in all of its splendor and have just a little of it in our own gardens. -JacyJoypals
It’s that time again as we prepare for our Rose & Garden Show 2018. A few favorites from the past.
In our eyes, nothing is more beautiful than the blooms of roses and peonies…our favorites! So then, a few rose delights for the eyes and thoughts for the heart!
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 of desire on the lips.
John Boyle O’Reilly. 1844–1890
Photography: Copyright, JayJacy Photography ©2018 All Rights Reserved for Promise Gardens – No Reblogs Please. Thank You
We at Promise Gardens wish you and yours a very Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. Thank you for your support, follows and likes over the years as the Promise Gardens has grown and flourished. Stop by our JayJacy Photography and HDRCHIC Photography blogs to see what we have been up to in travel and work. The Promise Gardens are sleeping under a blanket of snow until spring and then wonderful things will renew! Happy Christmas!
Photography: Copyright, JayJacy Photography ©2017 All Rights Reserved
The joy of the Promise Gardens each year is my over 40 peony bushes-trees that produce such beauty that takes my breath away. They are my favorite next to the Rose….a must have in your gardens dear friends for the sheer loveliness and joy they bring!
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Daybreak in a Garden
I HEARD the farm cocks crowing, loud, and faint, and thin,
When hooded night was going and one clear planet winked:
I heard shrill notes begin down the spired wood distinct,
When cloudy shoals were chinked and gilt with fires of day.
White-misted was the weald; the lawns were silver-grey;
The lark his lonely field for heaven had forsaken;
And the wind upon its way whispered the boughs of may,
And touched the nodding peony-flowers to bid them waken.
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