Tis the last rose of summer,
Left blooming alone;
All her lovely companions
Are faded and gone.

— Thomas Moore

A leaf is a letter from a tree
That writes, in gold, 
"Remember me!"

— Joan Walsh Anglund

From plants that wake when others sleep,
from timid jasmine buds that keep
their odor to themselves all day,
but when the sunlight dies away
let the delicious secret out
to every breeze that roams about.
 
— Thomas Moore

The Old Year passes into the New, and gladness fills all the earth for the joyous awakening of bud and blossom is at hand.

 — Minnie Aumônier

The tuberose, with her silvery light,
That in the gardens of Malay
Is called the Mistress of the Night,
So like a bride, scented and bright;
She comes out when the sun's away.

— Thomas Moore
 

A bird doesn’t sing because
it has an answer,  it sings
because it has a song…

— Joan Walsh Anglund

Friendship is like a rose... 
opening one petal at a time, 
only as it unfolds... 
day by day, it reveals its true beauty.

— Joan Walsh Anglund
 

Pure as the joy a garden gives, the memory of a true friend lives.
And like a garden, through the changing year is ever lovely, ever fresh and dear.

— Minnie Aumônier