We planted sunflower seeds in the flower bed this spring. In the heat of the summer, when I walk by, William Blake's words come to mind.
"Ah! sunflower, weary of time,
Who countest the steps of the sun,
Seeking after that sweet golden clime
Where the traveller’s journey is done;
"Where the youth pined away with desire,
And the pale virgin shrouded in snow,
Arise from their graves and aspire;
Where my sunflower wishes to go."
Who countest the steps of the sun,
Seeking after that sweet golden clime
Where the traveller’s journey is done;
"Where the youth pined away with desire,
And the pale virgin shrouded in snow,
Arise from their graves and aspire;
Where my sunflower wishes to go."
Don't even get me started on the tiger exhibit at the zoo...
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