This poem expresses the perspective of a person encountering much rain, but looking past any inconvenience to the joy of spring flowers.
It is not raining rain to me,
It’s raining daffodils;
In every dimpled drop I see
Wildflowers on the hills.
April Rain [1901] st. 1
A health unto the happy!
A fig for him who frets!—
It is not raining rain to me,
It’s raining violets.
Ib. st. 4
--Robert Loveman (1864-1923)
If spring flowers have not yet sprung up in your area, I hope you are looking forward to the delights which increasing warm weather will surely bring. Have a great day!
Note on Illustrations: The Mayflower oil painting is in my dining room. The embroidery is in my guest room.
4 comments:
Love the poems! It must be so special to enjoy tea with you. Enjoy having your mother with you and spoiling her. Go well! Eleanor at Thatchwick
I just got my "mother fix" in Cali when I got to experience lovely warm spring weather. Then, back to Idaho - and six inches of fresh snow! Oh well. Love, Esther
I hope all is well with you, and your mother. Miss seeing your posts.
This is a very nice post! I enjoyed reading it.
Katherine
Thanks for sending us ALL some spring flowers, Carrie. We're not there yet, but close. I noticed little leaf buds on the lilac bush. It is a'comin'! -Jenn
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