In a soundless space;
With footsteps quiet and slow,
Under veils of white lace.
And you in wool,
More beautiful
Than the breast of a gull.
In a windless peace;
Upon silver fleece,
Upon softer than these.
Wherever we go
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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