The next photo is of an orchid that my neighbor gave me last year. I have no idea how I have kept it alive, much less blooming. If I could only keep the dog and the kids from picking the flowers.
The last picture is just a close up of the amaryllis. I'll post another picture when all four blooms are open.
And for the poem:
The Rhodora: On being asked whence is the flower.
By Ralph Waldo Emerson
In May, when sea-winds pierced our solitudes,
I found the fresh Rhodora in the woods,
Spreading its leafless blooms in a damp nook,
To please the desert and the sluggish brook.
The purple petals, fallen in the pool,
Made the black water with their beauty gay;
Here might the redbird come his plumes to cool,
And court the flower that cheapens his array.
Rhodora! if the sages ask thee why
This charm is wasted on the earth and sky,
Tell them, dear, that if eyes were made for seeing
Then Beauty is its own excuse for being:
Why thou wert there, O rival of the rose!
I never thought to ask, I never knew:
But, in my simple ignorance, suppose
The self-same Power that brought me there brought you.