And soon, too soon, the wintry hour Of man's maturer age Will shake the soul with sorrow's power...
flowers cannot lie... nor can the One who made them...
Flowers only last a little while, but God's Word shall stand forever.
When cares weigh us down, God's strength holds us up.
The blossoms on the vine were small and white only yesterday,
Now they’re morphing into rosy pink, so colorful and gay.
Those who mourn are blessed because they will be comforted.
This painting is a happy scene to me, with all the flowers scattered hither and yon.
Despite the impurities all around it, all the things that try to suffocate and snuff out its survival,
And it blooms BEAUTIFULLY.
Practice in painting tulips sketch-style, plus a poem
Imitation is the highest form of flattery.