Footfalls echo in the memory
Down the passage which we did not take
Towards the door we never opened
Into the rose garden.
- T.S. Eliot
The old tree is shook
White blossoms slowly float down
Dancers in the wind
- Alexandra Kim
You love the roses - so do I.
I wish the sky would rain down roses, as they rain from off the shaken bush.
Why will it not?
Then all the valley would be pink and white and soft to tread on.
They would fall as light as feathers, smelling sweet, and it would be like sleeping and like waking, all at once!
- George Eliot
Forsythia is pure joy.
There is not an ounce, not a glimmer of sadness or even knowledge in forsythia.
Pure, undiluted, untouched joy.
- Anne Morrow Lindbergh