The porch swing hangs heavy. The potted plants sigh; But none is so hot or So weary as I. The music of crickets, The buzz of the fly Is droning unanswered Tired and dry. The sun on the garden Has dried every leaf The vines are all withered Gone summer's feast. The Queen Anne has... Continue Reading →
Fall Comes to the Farm
If you listen to a sea shell you'll hear the ocean; if you listen to the wind you'll hear Oklahoma.c e hollis
Butterflies in September Gardens
“On colored wing no bigger than a scrap of fabric the butterfly brings beauty and wonder to the earth.”c e hollis In the garden I find fragile butterflies with torn, summer--worn wings. They are busy as ever. I see them in the shrubbery, in the trees around the house, in the dry and dying garden,... Continue Reading →