Wednesday, January 21, 2009

Creature of the Light Nº7

I prefer the gorgeous freedom,
And I fly to lands of grace,
Where in wide and clear meadows
All is good, as dreams, and blest.
Here they rice: the clover clear,
And corn-flower's gentle lace,
And the rustle is always here:
"Ears are leaning… Take your ways!"
In this immense sea of fair,
Only one of blades reclines.
You don't see in misty air,
I'd seen it! It will be mine!

Aleksandr Blok, poem named after the first line.


itzktb said...

Winter pretty.

runnerfrog said...

I can always count on you for the best words.

itzktb said...

And I can always count on you for images to inspire, as well as the best word verifications around.



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