Celestial beauti of winter flowers.

This is entry to Hive take some flower image with you -Good morning of color and fragrances, let's relax and enjoy the scent of winter flowers-feel the poet's feelings for a short while-birds charming near trees I feel the feeing of a poet-why or not winter forces us to think of think of myself as a poet.

Wednesday I visited a flower garden and some shots for you. Please come pass some time with us .Together, we can bring peace to the mundane and spread love to every bosom.

I've been thinking about the jargon of flowers for a few days, and sometime attempt to figure out perfectly what that might be. I acknowledge that when I see deeply a flower and naturally I have to depend on someone or creator and it is told to me by some other entity in my presence .

It goes without saying that I love flowers. why??? because of their soft petals, combination of mind-blowing colors, their perfumes, their vigor, their panacea properties, their time sense
about weather, the way they dance on the wind and scintillating in the rain. I smile when I see flowers blooming and I get hurt when I see them grow carelessly. Sometime I talk to them, and they talk to me, but how??

Flower are often portrays to express friendship, love and sometimes sorrow. There is hardly anyone who dislikes flowers. Winter comes with wisdom and love,does't it?

“I must have flowers, always, and always.” ―Claude Monet
“Welcome, winter. Your late dawns and chilled breath make me lazy, but I love you nonetheless.” —Terri Guillemets

Due to the limitation of my knowledge, I am forced to marvel of it's beauty again and again, I am not a florist so maybe I just want to be a human and enjoy it.These colorful gorgeous little beauties bring happiness to me; OHsorry to say, aren't you ?
Marigold,cosmos,dairy,gypsises,roses,gladoli,tuberoses,gerbera,dahlies enhances the celestial beauty.

"Where is heaven? you ask me, my child,-the sages tell us it is beyond the limits of birth and death, unsawed by the rhythm of day and night; it is not of the earth. But your poet knows that its eternal hunger is for time and space, and it strives evermore to be born in the fruitful dust. Heaven is fulfilled in your sweet body, my child, in your palpitating heart. The sea is beating its drums in joy, the flowers are a-tiptoe to kiss you. For heaven is born in you, in the arms of the mother- dust".-Rabindranath Thakur.