• photoart

    she saw the waterlily bloom

    She left the web, she left the loom,
    She made three paces through the room,
    She saw the water-lily bloom,
    She saw the helmet and the plume,
    She look’d down to Camelot.
    Out flew the web and floated wide;
    The mirror crack’d from side to side;
    “The curse is come upon me,”
    cried The Lady of Shalott.

    [Alfred Lord Tennyson]

  • photoart

    I am clad in flowers fair

    Love and harmony combine,
    And round our souls entwine
    While thy branches mix with mine,
    And our roots together join.

    Joys upon our branches sit,
    Chirping loud and singing sweet;
    Like gentle streams beneath our feet
    Innocence and virtue meet.

    Thou the golden fruit dost bear,
    I am clad in flowers fair;
    Thy sweet boughs perfume the air,
    And the turtle buildeth there.

    [Love and Harmony by William Blake]

  • photoart

    I am a loon about the sea

     

    The Sea is large.
    The sea hold on a leg of land in the Chesapeake hugs an early sunset and a last morning star over the oyster beds and the late clam boats of lonely men.
    Five white houses on a half-mile strip of land … five white dice rolled from a tube.

    Not so long ago … the sea was large…
    And to-day the sea has lost nothing … it keeps all.

     

    I am a loon about the sea.
    I make so many sea songs, I cry so many sea cries, I forget so many sea songs and sea cries.

    I am a loon about the sea.
    So are five men I had a fish fry with once in a tar-paper shack trembling in a sand storm.

    The sea knows more about them than they know themselves.
    They know only how the sea hugs and will not let go.

    The sea is large.
    The sea must know more than any of us.

    [The Sea Hold by Carl Sandburg]

    Patricia Bay, North Saanich, Vancouver Island, British Columbia, Canada

  • photoart

    sunset at Spindrift

    Slowly the west reaches for clothes of new colors
    which it passes to a row of ancient trees.
    You look, and soon these two worlds both leave you
    one part climbs toward heaven, one sinks to earth.

    leaving you, not really belonging to either,
    not so hopelessly dark as that house that is silent,
    not so unswervingly given to the eternal as that thing
    that turns to a star each night and climbs-

    leaving you (it is impossible to untangle the threads)
    your own life, timid and standing high and growing,
    so that, sometimes blocked in, sometimes reaching out,
    one moment your life is a stone in you, and the next, a star.

    [“Sunset” by Rainer Maria Rilke]

    our front garden in the fall at Spindrift, Lake Huron