It's been a week where landscape and sky are a seamless sweep of white-ish-gray...
Outside the world is white and gray
And summer seems so far away
With its bare feet and bloom-spun nook
And lilies wading in the brook
Outside the leafless world is tossed
By gales that seem surly and lost
They reel across field, wood and lake
Surreal, the silence in its wake
No fences frilled with flower-bells
Or haunt of fern or green-moss dells
Where fairies flit, no gnome or sprite
To roam this sweep of knee-deep white
Outside the world half-dark and stark
Is like a still-life work of art
No color warms this painter’s tray
Outside the world is white and gray
© Janet Martin
I read this one to my husband and daughter at the breakfast table this morning. There is beauty to be found in the white and gray, but a surfeit of it leaves one feeling a little limp, doesn't it?
ReplyDeleteExactly! I fully love all seasons, but 'limp' is the perfect word to describe one after an overload of gray days. Still, gray days are the best for reading and writing!
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