The Greenhouse At Leu Gardens

When winter gloom is all my view, and days, like harvest fruit, weigh heavy on a weathered frame too weak for such a load, then I know a place to go, where domiciled as warm as June, secret orchids fuel a passion fire, and fragrant walls in tropic bloom reflect the damp of loving August nights. The colors there are set among the green like Genesis in rhyme. Saurian fern and cycads grow below an ancient roof now glazed with primal moss. Yet I feel these panes of grizzly glass are facets in a rare gem, the ransom for broken winter moods till the season yields.