Thinking about it leads me to ask - are you a picture person or a word person?
I thought I knew which I was but while we were compiling the website, I looked through hundreds, if not thousands of photographs and read even more words. Sometimes the images were highly evocative and would have needed sentences to describe them. Sometimes there were words that no picture could quite express. I think maybe the mood of the day has a lot to do with it.
So here are some words because today is a day for words.
And in the time that it has taken me to do this, I have had a reply to my text. The book is no longer with me, it is with Hannah. So ..... ? It was her book and I'll just have to get a copy of my own!
In the meantime here is the today poem. I can't believe there will ever be just one image for it.
Pennie - I LOVE your blog!!! The poems are great. Here's one you'll like:
ReplyDeleteThe Sun Rising
by: John Donne, 1572 - 1631
Busy old fool, unruly Sun,
Why dost thou thus,
Through windows, and through curtains, call on us?
Must to thy motions lovers' seasons run?
Saucy pedantic wretch, go chide
Late school-boys and sour prentices,
Go tell Court-huntsmen that the King will ride,
Call country ants to harvest offices;
Love, all alike, no season knows nor clime,
Nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time.
Thy beams so reverend and strong
Why shouldst thou think?
I could eclipse and cloud them with a wink,
But that I would not lose her sight so long.
If her eyes have not blinded thine,
Look, and to-morrow late tell me,
Whether both th' Indias of spice and mine
Be where thou left'st them, or lie here with me.
Ask for those kings whom thou saw'st yesterday.
And thou shalt hear, "All here in one bed lay."
She's all states, and all princes I;
Nothing else is;
Princes do but play us; compar'd to this,
All honour's mimic, all wealth alchemy.
Thou sun art half as happy as we,
In that the world's contracted thus;
Thine age asks ease, and since thy duties be
To warm the world, that's done in warming us.
Shine here to us, and thou art everywhere;
This bed thy centre is, these walls, thy sphere.
xo
cm
Thanks for your kind words, Chris and the poem.
ReplyDelete