Let us walk in the white snow
In a soundless space;
With footsteps quiet and slow,
At a tranquil pace,
Under veils of white lace.
I shall go shod in silk,
And you in wool,
White as white cow's milk,
More beautiful
Than the breast of a gull.
We shall walk through the still town
In a windless peace;
We shall step upon white down,
Upon silver fleece,
Upon softer than these.
We shall walk in velvet shoes:
Wherever we go
Silence will fall like dews
On white silence below.
We shall walk in the snow.
--Elinor Wylie
2 comments:
Hmm, afraid I am feeling a little less poetic about snow, but it is a lovely poem and great pictures nonetheless!
Oh, Gretel, I have seen the mighty dumping you've received in the Cotswolds... no wonder you are feeling less than poetic about it! Hoping things will clear up soon and that Andy will be able to get home earlier than expected.
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