Simplicity..

                             We are not made out of stone..

...........xxx.....

A different sky..

.......................................

There is another sky,
 Ever serene and fair,
And there is another sunshine,
Though it be darkness there;
 Never mind faded forests, Austin,
Never mind silent fields—
Here is a little forest,
Whose leaf is ever green;
 Here is a brighter garden,
Where not a frost has been;
 In its unfading flowers
 I hear the bright bee hum:
Prithee, my brother,
 Into my garden come!

 Emily Dickinson

A Poem Emily wrote to her brother...wishing for him to come home..!
Home...a word more beautiful after traveling..

For me it has a another  interpretation...because I always come home to my garden...and then my home..Now, In my garden its peaceful and quiet...September is the best month for a garden..I believe..
Just sitting and watching a different sky......another autumnly sunshine..

xoxo

For ever and ever....

                          Emily's white dress.....To work in the garden..
                                                                         

                                                I live in my garden
                                  There is for instance this pear tree..

                                                         It makes me happy

Go HERE...to visit Emily's garden..I hope to visit in November 2017..When you build a garden it will be there forever..Like poetry..and music..

..............................

Emily loved Schumann..so maybe she listened to the music you are hearing now..time-traveling is possible.. And now will you please excuse me..the garden waits..

                                                                   Love always
                                                                          T.D
                                                                           xxx

A New Day..

We turn not older with years, but newer every day.

Emily Dickinson

Titel of artwork Spring Thaw...

About Marching in to a bedroom...

Farewell to February...and when we take a sneek peek into March...we see...

 

GREEN..and we can smell it too....

















DEAR March, come in
  How glad I am! I looked for you before.
  Put down your hat— You must have walked—     
  How out of breath you are!
  Dear March, how are you?
  And the rest? Did you leave Nature well?
  Oh, March, come right upstairs with me,     
  I have so much to tell!

Emily Dickinson.

                                                                           

                                 
                                       Lets follow March....up to a bedroom...

                                                      *************

Happiness

“Some pursue happiness - others create it.”


The words the happy say
Are paltry melody
But those the silent feel
Are beautiful --

by Emily Dickinson .

.

Mother nature..

“Not knowing when the dawn will come, I open every door..
Emily Dickinson

And let Mother nature in.....

Art-Dawn of a new day-Tom Browning.

A Mothers Day..

My father always said...every day is a mothers day..and he was right..even now....I can still feel the presence of my  mother, watching me.....
Wishing you a lovely mothers day out there on the globe..make it special..

'Mama'never forgets her birds,
Though in another tree-
She looks down just as often
And just as tenderly
As when her little mortal nest
With cunning care she wove'-
If either of her'sparrows'fall',
She 'notices', above.


Emily Dickinson.

A new beginning...

Baffled for just a day or two-
Embarrassed-not afraid-
Encounter in my garden
An unexpected Maid.

She beckons ,and the woods start-
She nods, and all begin-
Surely, such a country
I was never in!

E.Dickinson

How wonderful the day when you find a new path...a new spring...a new beginning.

I've met the thing before...!?

A Thought went up my mind today --
That I have had before --
But did not finish -- some way back --
I could not fix the Year --

Nor where it went -- nor why it came
The second time to me --
Nor definitely, what it was --
Have I the Art to say --

But somewhere -- in my Soul -- I know --
I've met the Thing before --
It just reminded me -- 'twas all --
And came my way no more --

Emily Dickinson..

O..I wanted to remind you....before I forget...have yourself a wonderful wonderful weekend.......go out and make it beautiful..Like a poem..come rain or come shine..

Art-Lost in Thought-Marcus Stone.

Just Bee...

The Bee

His labor is a chant,
His idleness a tune;
Oh, for the bee’s experience
Of clovers and of noon!

Emily Dickinson –


Want to hear the latest Buzzzzz from the Hilltop..we are going to have a HEATWAVE...so the Bee buzzed in my ear...And would you like to find out what our dear Miss Moussie heard...hop over to the garden...

Spring Flowers..

An altered look about the hills;
A Tyrian light the village fills;
A wider sunrise in the dawn;
A deeper twilight on the lawn;
A print of a vermilion foot;
A purple finger on the slope;
A flippant fly upon the pane;
A spider at his trade again;
An added strut in chanticleer;
A flower expected... everywhere ..."

- Emily Dickinson, April


Art-Spring Flowers..George Smith
On the playlist Enchanted April..

We Wait.....

November always seemed to me the Norway of the year."
- Emily Dickinson

On the Hilltop we are waiting in anticipation....we heard on the weather report that there will be SNOW this coming weekend...so..

Mittens...check
Scarf...check
Snowboots...check
Sled..check
A carrot..for the snowman's nose..check
A hat..for the snow man's head..check
Two buttons..for the snowman's eyes..check..
Bird seeds...to fill the feeder..check.
Nutts...for the squirrels..check..
A burning stove..to warm yourself when you come in from the cold..and last but not least..hot chocolate..with cream..
Anything I forgot.....?

O... the snowman hasn't got his mouth yet...maybe some m&m's....:)
Can't help it..I know it's early but today I'm singing a winter song....

A murmer in the trees..

There is a murmer in the trees...inviting..Would you dare to enter the forbidden forest..? Follow the road to the Fairy Dell..and meet all kind of enchanting creatures on your way...


A Murmur in the Trees -- --
Not loud enough -- for Wind --
A Star -- not far enough to seek --
Nor near enough -- to find --

A long -- long Yellow -- on the Lawn --
A Hubbub -- as of feet --
Not audible -- as Ours -- to Us --
But dapperer -- More Sweet --

A Hurrying Home of little Men
To Houses unperceived --
All this -- and more -- if I should tell --
Would never be believed --

Of Robins in the Trundle bed
How many I espy
Whose Nightgowns could not hide the Wings --
Although I heard them try --

But then I promised ne'er to tell --
How could I break My Word?
So go your Way -- and I'll go Mine --
No fear you'll miss the Road.


to note by Emily Dickinson
Art~Arthur Rackham.

Parasols and Umbrellas....

Dutch weather...you have to be prepared...

The parasol is the umbrella's daughter,
And associates with a fan
While her father abuts the tempest
And abridges the rain.

The former assists a siren
In her serene display;
But her father is borne and honored,
And borrowed to this day.

Emily Dickinson


Art~Miller-Woman reading.

You...

I felt it shelter to speak to you.

~Emily Dickinson

Sanctity

THE ROBIN is the one
That interrupts the morn
With hurried, few, express reports
When March is scarcely on.

The robin is the one
That overflows the noon
With her cherubic quantity,
An April but begun.

The robin is the one
That speechless from her nest
Submits that home and certainty
And sanctity are best.

Emily Dickinson

Art~Charles Chaplin,Girl with bird nest.
On the playlist today~Writing Poems by Ludovico Einaudi.

The Snow Storm

Spellbound
by Emily Brontë

The night is darkening round me,
The wild winds coldly blow;
But a tyrant spell has bound me
And I cannot, cannot go.

The giant trees are bending
Their bare boughs weighed with snow.
And the storm is fast descending,
And yet I cannot go.

Clouds beyond clouds above me,
Wastes beyond wastes below;
But nothing dear can move me;
I will not, cannot go.

painting~William Morris Hunt~The Snow Storm

A combination of..

September's Baccalaureate
A combination is
Of Crickets -- Crows -- and Retrospects
And a dissembling Breeze

That hints without assuming --
An Innuendo sear
That makes the Heart put up its Fun
And turn Philosopher.

Emily Dickinson

Painting Harold Knight

Hay..

The grass so little has to do,–
A sphere of simple green,
With only butterflies to brood,
And bees to entertain,

And stir all day to pretty tunes
The breezes fetch along,
And hold the sunshine in its lap
And bow to everything;

And thread the dews all night, like pearls,
And make itself so fine,–
A duchess were too common
For such a noticing.

And even when it dies, to pass
In odors so divine,
As lowly spices gone to sleep,
Or amulets of pine.

And then to dwell in sovereign barns,
And dream the days away,–
The grass so little has to do,
I wish I were the hay.
Emily Dickinson.

Painting ~Hay making~Edward Wilkins Waite.Click to enlarge..