Don't Go Outside Your House To See Flowers. My Friend, Don't Bother With That Excursion. Inside Your Body There Are Flowers. One Flower Has A Thousand Petals. That Will Do For A Place To Sit. Sitting There You Will Have A Glimpse Of Beauty Inside The Body And Out Of It, Before Gardens And After Gardens.
I Heard On Public Radio Recently, There's A Thing Called Weed Dating. Singles Get Together In A Garden And Weed And Then They Take Turns, They Keep Matching Up With Other People. Two People Will Weed Down One Row And Switch Over With Two Other People. It's In Vermont. I Don't Think I'd Be Very Good At Weed Dating.
The Spirits Of The Air Live On The Smells Of Fruit; And Joy, With Pinions Light, Roves Round The Gardens, Or Sits Singing In The Trees.
And Priests In Black Gowns Were Walking Their Rounds And Binding With Briars My Joys And Desires. (from 'the Garden Of Love')
The Poison Tree I Was Angry With My Friend: I Told My Wrath, My Wrath Did End. I Was Angry With My Foe; I Told It Not, My Wrath Did Grow. And I Water'd It In Fears, Night & Morning With My Tears; And I Sunned It With My Smiles And With Soft Deceitful Wiles. And It Grew Both Day And Night, Till It Bore An Apple Bright; And My Foe Beheld It Shine, And He Knew That It Was Mine, And Into My Garden Stole When The Night Had Veil'd The Pole: In The Morning Glad I See My Foe Outstretch'd Beneath The Tree.
I Went To The Garden Of Love, And Saw What I Never Had Seen: A Chapel Was Built In The Midst, Where I Used To Play On The Green. And The Gates Of This Chapel Were Shut, And 'thou Shalt Not' Writ Over The Door; So I Turn'd To The Garden Of Love, That So Many Sweet Flowers Bore. And I Saw It Was Filled With Graves, And Tomb-stones Where Flowers Should Be: And Priests In Black Gowns, Were Walking Their Rounds, And Binding With Briars, My Joys & Desires.
If You Don't Drink 56 Bottles Of Water A Week, Scientists Say You Should Take A Garden Hose At The End Of The Week And Shove It Up Your Ass.
I Love Being In My Garden. I Don't Plant A Lot Of Exotic Flora, But I Do Spend A Lot Of Time Outside Doing Manual Labour.
Put An Englishman Into The Garden Of Eden, And He Would Find Fault With The Whole Blasted Concern; Put A Yankee In, And He Would See Where He Could Alter It To Advantage; Put An Irishman In, And He Would Want To Boss The Thing; Put A Dutchman In, And He Would Proceed To Plant It.
Ritualism, N. A Dutch Garden Of God Where He May Walk In Rectilinear Freedom, Keeping Off The Grass.
