I leant upon a coppice gate
When Frost was spectre-grey,
And Winter’s dregs made desolate
The weakening eye of day.
The tangled bine-stems scored the sky
Like strings of broken lyres,
And all mankind that haunted nigh
Had sought their household fires.
from Thomas Hardy’s The Darkling Thrush
Wonderful photo for that piece!
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One of my most favourite poems, Tracy.
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Hooray! So glad you found your way here. 🙂
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Who would know that it was a simple matter of clicking on your avatar! 🙂
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HA! I worded that poorly. I meant, I’m glad you were “surprised” to come across a snippet of poem you love.
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I should probably slow down when I read. 🤣 Honestly though, some avatars lead nowhere!
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Beautiful
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Those words are a good match for that image, methinks.
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Thank you
I’m glad you enjoyed this post
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