Thursday, 9 December 2010

My dear....can I shoot you?

By Eric Swenson
Contemporary photography

Rose for the rose

I can feel the sweet smell of the roses coming from the garden. My garden.

There's one sonnet by William Shakespeare, Sonnet 94, that ends
with the following two lines:
 "For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds; 
Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds."

so true! 

song for this strangely calm day

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