Who Tells A Finer Tale Than Any

There Are Times Of Great Beauty On A Coffee Farm. When The Plantation Flowered In The Beginning Of The Rains, It Was A Radiant Sight, Like A Cloud Of Chalk, In The Mist Of The Drizzling Rain.

The Cicada Sing An Endless Song In The Long Grass, Smells Run Along The Earth And Falling Stars Run Over The Sky, Like Tears Over A Cheek. You Are The Privileged Person To Whom Everything Is Taken. The Kings Of Tarshish Shall Bring Gifts.

I Had A Farm In Africa, At The Foot Of The Ngong Hills.

When You Have A Great And Difficult Task, Something Perhaps Almost Impossible, If You Only Work A Little At A Time, Every Day A Little, Suddenly The Work Will Finish Itself.

Through All The World There Goes One Long Cry From The Heart Of The Artist: Give Me A Chance To Do My Best.