“Darling daisies kiss as spring awakens today her heart and soul sings.”

It wasn’t written in the skies for us but for a moment I was a shooting star in the cosmos of your love.

As flowers are to bees you are to me.

A phoenix rising from the ashes of my heart I will love again.

A daughter of mystery and moonlight magic danced within her veins her spirit singing a sweet melody as the goddess within her reigns.

In every woman, there is a bit of wild tattooed in her DNA.

She deserved the sun yet all he gave was rain and while she needed both to bloom she couldn’t forget the pain.

His love set her on fire and she loved the way it burned.

His love was so great that ever so often time would stop and she’d feel the earth shake.

Surrender to me a new heart with your touch I may love again.

The love you desire exists within find her first and then that love will manifest in ‘him’.

We are all lost souls searching for someone to call home.

His kisses make her blossom like a flower in the wild softly unfolding her petals to expose the magic hidden inside.

I don’t crave a forever I just want to share the time I have with you and me together.

If I only had one wish it would be for life any life with you in it.

Dance under the moon conjures the goddess within awakening your wild.

She craves love so deep it would make her ancestors’ hearts beat.

People are flowers. Music is water. Musicians are the hose.

The smallest flower is a thought, a life answering to some feature of the Great Whole, of whom they have a persistent intuition.

There is more value in placing a flower in a rifle barrel than making war. As Jimi Hendrix used to say, musical notes have more importance than bullets.

Try to believe that still within you are flowers left to bloom.

Maybe we are supposed to break, so that through our cracks our flowers can grow.

A world without a Sabbath would be like a man without a smile, like summer without flowers, and like a homestead without a garden. It is the most joyous day of the week.

The sun does not shine for a few trees and flowers, but for the wide world’s joy.

The lotus grows out of the mud. Love the lotus; do not love the mud.