gardens amy books were planted in our gardens. 000315 ... crimson "Your eyes must do some raining if you're ever going to grow." My mother loves her gardens. She thrives off of them as they look to her for provisions. Each blossom is nurtured with unspoken secrets and gentleness. The green is gradually ripped open and the exploding colors create, for her, a great joy. I love my mother in her gardens. 030915 ... mourninglight will you be my garden? 041024 what's it to you? who go blather from