This spring as it comes bursts up in bonfires green, Wild puffing of emerald trees, and flame-filled bushes, Thorn-blossom lifting in wreathes of smoke between Where the wood fumes up and the watery, flickering rushes. I am amazed at this […]
When the cold, harsh winter has given its last breath, When the sky above shows life instead of death, When the claws reaching to the frozen sky become decorated with leaves, When the animals -long in hiding- scurry from trees, […]
Winter uses all the blues there are. One shade of blue for water, one for ice. Another blue for shadows over snow. The clear or cloudy sky uses blue twice- Both different blues. And hills row after row Are coloured […]
At once a voice arose among The bleak twigs overhead In a full-hearted evensong Of joy illimited; An aged thrush, frail, gaunt, and small, In blast-beruffled plume, Had chosen thus to fling his soul Upon the growing gloom. Thomas Hardy […]
In the other gardens And all up the vale, From the autumn bonfires See the smoke trail! Pleasant summer over, And all the summer flowers, The red fire blazes, The grey smoke towers. Sing a song of seasons! Something bright […]
’Tis moonlight, summer moonlight, All soft and still and fair; The solemn hour of midnight Breathes sweet thoughts everywhere, But most where trees are sending Their breezy boughs on high, Or stooping low are lending A shelter from the sky. […]
Warm summer sun, Shine kindly here, Warm southern wind, Blow softly here. Green sod above, Lie light, lie light. Good night, dear heart, Good night, good night. Mark Twain (1835-1910) After a winter that gifted us an absence of sub-zero […]
This spring as it comes bursts up in bonfires green, Wild puffing of emerald trees, and flame-filled bushes, Thorn-blossom lifting in wreaths of smoke between Where the wood fumes up and the watery, flickering rushes. D.H. Lawrence (1885-1930) Living on […]
The cold earth slept below; Above the cold sky shone; And all around, With a chilling sound, From caves of ice and fields of snow The breath of night like death did flow Beneath the sinking moon. Percy Bysshe Shelley […]
The birds have flown their summer skies to the south, And the flower-money is drying in the banks of bent grass Which the bumble bee has abandoned. We wait for a winter lion, Body of ice-crystals and sombrero of dead […]
I love the fitful gust that shakes The casement all the day, And from the glossy elm tree takes The faded leaves away, Twirling them by the window pane With thousand others down the lane. John Clare (1793-1864) Before the […]
I question not if thrushes sing, If roses load the air; Beyond my heart I need not reach When all is summer there. John Vance Cheney (1848-1922) Although we are still in the grip of a pandemic, restrictions are gradually […]
