Pollination When I walked through the garden, the bees kissed the flowers. My fingers reached out, caught in delight. I saw the colors as they poured forth, a river, a multitude bending under the golden sun. Oh the joy of simple things!
- Robert Bly
Pollination When I walked through the garden, the bees kissed the flowers. My fingers reached out, caught in delight. I saw the colors as they poured forth, a river, a multitude bending under the golden sun. Oh the joy of simple things!