Thursday, 15 May 2008

Tantalising Tulips At Barleycorn

Through the window
By the window,
That is where
I'll be
Come tiptoe
Through the tulips
With me
Oh, tiptoe
From the garden
By the garden
Of the willow tree
And tiptoe
Through the tulips
With me
Knee deep
In flowers
We'll stray
We'll keep
The showers
And if I
Kiss you
In the garden,
In the moonlight
Will you
Pardon me?
And tiptoe
Through the tulips with me.
In May 2007 my husband and I were fortunate enough to travel south to spend two days at the Chelsea Flower Show in London. In the Great Pavilion - every gardener's delight - we fell in love with beautiful displays of tulips. We placed an order for our favourites, which arrived in late November. No sooner had the postman reached the top of the drive than I had pulled on my wellies, grabbed my spade and ran outside like an excited child, eager to plant my new bulbs. After the display of daffodils in my previous post, most of which have been frazzled in the soaring temperatures of the past week, we are thrilled to look upon our lovely tulips which bring back happy memories of our trip to Chelsea.
If you would like to see a rainbow of primula at Barleycorn, click here. This is my photo blog which I use from time to time, to show what's in bloom here at Barleycorn. It is especially handy when I am too busy in the garden to write about everything that's in flower.

Saturday, 10 May 2008

A Host Of Barleycorn Daffodils

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills ,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretched in never-ending line,
Along the margin of a bay;
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee,
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company;
I gazed - and gazed - but little thought
What wealth to me the show had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
By William Wordsworth (1770 - 1850)