my white room


i never saw a moor—
i never saw the sea—
yet know i how the heather looks
and what a billow be.

e.d.



2/5/12

just listen to this one,
midnight by dorothy parker

the stars are soft as flowers, and as near;
the hills are webs of shadow, slowly spun;
no separate leaf or single blade is here-
all blend to one.








i`m spending evenings and nights
with poetry and my watercolors,
forget me not, harmony











2 comments:

  1. Love this painting of forget me nots.
    Were you also told as a child that you can't pick these to add to a bouquet of flowers, because it would start to rain if you did? Whenever I picked them, it really started raining lateron. At least that's how I remember it.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. mina,
      never heard of it before
      but i love to hear it now,
      any stories like this make me
      wonder about nature, create more -
      ill remember it now

      and,
      about the postcard
      im in the middle of
      the project, below one..

      ill be happy to send it to you.

      Delete

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olga.




olga