How can you be content to be in the world like tulips in a garden, to make a fine show, and be good for nothing.
And tulips, children love to stretch
Their fingers down, to feel in each
Its beauty's sweet nearer.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
But I have always thought that these tulips must have had names. They were red, and orange and red, and red and orange and yellow, like the ember in a nursery fire of a winter's evening. I remember them.
God writes the gospel not in the Bible alone, but on trees and flowers and clouds and stars. Author unknown
Now wouldn't this come in handy!