My garden all is overblown with roses,
My spirit all is overblown with rhyme,
As like a drunken honeybee I waver
From house to garden and again to house
And, undetermined which delight to favour
On verse and rose alternately carouse.
Vita Sackville-West-a sonnet
I really understand her feeling about wanting to be outside, and as soon as she is, she wants to be back inside. There's so much to do and delight in, it's hard to pick sometimes!
Here's another poem fragment from The Land by Sackville-West:
'She walks among the loveliness she made,
Between the apple blossom and the water-
She walks among the patterned pied brocade,
Each flower her son and every tree her daughter.'