Good morning!
It’s Thursday, and I picked you a bouquet.
Don’t worry, I snipped sparingly and always said “may I?” and “thank you.” And I avoided depleting anything that was popular with the monarchs.
To go with this offering, here’s a poem by Rabindranath Tagore. It’s called, fittingly, Flower.
Pluck this little flower and take it, delay not! I fear les…