I want to do to you what spring does with the cherry trees.
Loveliest of trees, the cherry now Is hung with bloom along the bough.
Break open A cherry tree And there are no flowers; But the spring breeze Brings forth myriad blossoms.
From all these trees, in the salads, the soup, everywhere, cherry blossoms fall.
I never see that prettiest thing- A cherry bough gone white with Spring- But what I think, "How gay 'twould be To hang me from a flowering tree.
I've seen spring come to the orchard every year as far back as I can remember and I've never grown tired of it. Oh, the wonder of it! The outrageous beauty! God didn't have to give us cherry blossoms you know. He didn't have to make apple trees and peach trees burst into flower and fragrance. But God just loves to splurge. He gives us all this magnificence and then, if that isn't enough, He provides fruit from such extravagance.
Love is an ice cream sundae, with all the marvelous coverings. Sex is the cherry on top.
Now, of my threescore years and ten, Twenty will not come again.
it would be lovely to sleep in a wild cherry-tree all white with bloom in the moonshine
The proprietor had hair so red that pigmentation had flowed out into every visible inch of his skin and even into the pinks of his eyes, as the colour of flowering cherry trees stains their leaves.
Sweet is the air with the budding haws, and the valley stretching for miles below Is white with blossoming cherry-trees, as if just covered with lighted snow.
We celebrate the cherry tree not for its efficiency but for its effectiveness - and for its beauty. Its materials are in constant flow, and all those thousands of useless cherry blossoms look gorgeous. Then they fall to the ground and become soil again, so there's no problem
Only in dreams of spring Shall I ever see again The flowering of my cherry trees.
Cherry trees will blossom every year; But I'll disappear for good, One of these days.
Working on your biceps? Try chopping down a cherry tree.
In the cherry blossom's shade there's no such thing as a stranger.
His heavy-lidded gaze reflected a languor that had nothing to do with having just awakened, and there was no doubt what was on his mind. But this is no safe cherry picker, Gwen thought, growing more concerned by the moment. This man looks like a cherry tree chopper-downer.
I'd like to divide myself in order to see, among these mountains, each and every flower of every cherry tree.
In the city fields Contemplating cherry-trees... Strangers are like friends
A short distance away is the Tidal Basin, ringed by cherry trees that every year produce flowers, an event to which Washingtonians react as though it were the Second Coming of Christ.
or simply:
