Ronnie's Photography & ....

Ya'at eeh! Greetings

The summer's flower is to the summer sweet
Though to itself it only live and die
- William Shakespeare

Hi. My name is Ronnie. I am happily married to my one and only true love of over 22 years; and I absolutely love laughing, happiness, flowers, poetry, art, and classic literature.

I'm here to share my photography and re-blogging some amazing poetry and meaningful quotes that I like. I also have my photos available on other websites, see below.

My photography consists of floral, nature and portraits. The photos on here are all mine. I hope you like them.

Thank you!!

time advances slowly, then not at all


I feel your absence
with the distance
between us
as the clock ticks off
the days drag by
without you
i now measure time
in breaths
and heart beats
each one slower
than the last
and when the last one
i will sit
holding my breath
wanting you
until i see you



trust me when I say
every day, every way
that I will love you, always love you
and my heart needs for you to stay…

Webbed Rose on Flickr.
Webbed Rose on Flickr.

Webbed Rose on Flickr.

Roses by Ronnie on Flickr.
Roses by Ronnie on Flickr.

Roses by Ronnie on Flickr.

To lose balance sometimes for love is part of living a balanced
- Elizabeth Gilbert (via purplebuddhaproject)

Viola Garden on Flickr.

Viola Garden on Flickr.


Oh my God, what if you wake up some day, and you’re 65, or 75, and you never got your memoir or novel written; or you didn’t go swimming in warm pools and oceans all those years because your thighs were jiggly and you had a nice big comfortable tummy; or you were just so strung out on perfectionism and people-pleasing that you forgot to have a big juicy creative life, of imagination and radical silliness and staring off into space like when you were a kid? It’s going to break your heart. Don’t let this happen.
- Anne Lamott (via awelltraveledwoman)
Words are so much
like the weather,
they touch everyone
a different way.
- Pavana पवन (via maza-dohta)
There is a road from the eye to the heart that does not go through the intellect.
- G.K. Chesterton (via purplebuddhaproject)



Blossom on Flickr.

Blossom on Flickr.
The purpose of literature is to turn blood into ink.
- T.S. Eliot (via dinwos)