Fair flowers...

morning fog


...to charm the eye with their beauty.

It doesn't require cultivation to see azaleas' pink profusion sparkling in morning's dew or nature's delight in her nectar. It's the subtle " fair flowers" - the wind's whisper through spanish moss, the buried seeds of hope in barren ground - for which I must train my eyes.

It's the "fair flowers" heart and soul cultivates - too fleeting, too beautiful, too sacred, to capture.

A smile. A hug. A twinkling eye.





The joy that is my strength.

The peace that passes all understanding.

The LOVE that covers my multitude of sins.