A Very Nearly Wordless Wednesday
“The Shadow People”
Old lame Bridget doesn’t hear
Fairy music in the grass
When the gloaming’s on the mere
And the shadow people pass:
Never hears their slow grey feet
Coming from the village street
Just beyond the parson’s wall,
Where the clover globes are sweet
And the mushroom’s parasol
Opens in the moonlit rain.
Every night I hear them call
From their [...]
A Very Nearly Wordless Wednesday
What is it?
It’s Clara’s own springtime perfume concoction.
God’s Will
I know, I know where violets blow
Upon a sweet hillside,
And very bashfully they grow
And in the grasses hide—
It is the fairest field, I trow,
In the whole world wide.
One spring I saw two lassies go,
Brown cheek and laughing eye;
They swung their aprons to and [...]
A Very Nearly Wordless Wednesday
“Let a fool hold his tongue and he will pass for a sage.”
Publius Syrus (42 B.C.), Maxim 914
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