As I walk aorund my garden I admire the sunflower, the single sunflower, so yellow so bright.
It is however also being admired by one bee.
And for what ever reason, growing straight up, wasn’t its progitive.
I admire the garden somewhat. Hell it needs weeding.
But not tonight.
For the moment I will admire it for what it is.
Enjoy the colours for what they are.
And the whiteness that are whiter than my freshly cleaned white socks that are not white, but should be white.
The gorgesness of it all.
The natural beauty.
I admire a lot.
And even a little bit more.
I have even had another set of blooming roses.
So delicate once more.
A spot of colour here and there.
This plant never flowered again.
This one though, keeps trying over and over.
The more I look the more I find.
These things liek to fall over so much.
In truth I spend too much time admiring the flowers.
But then its nicer out here thanit is in there.
AndI bet these flowers agree.
The devine outside life.
Ohh a big apple.
surronded by the niceness.
The grass of where the fire was.
And the grass where the fire wasn’t
It all looks so tranquil
And with that I head indoors.
I settle in and read me book, the last chapter of the book.
I could commence tango lessons. And that be the end.
A write a note in the back cover.
Put my book down and face the fact that bed is calling out for me.