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.



1/3/14

first day of this year

mom brought me these branches from the fallen
trees and today the buds bursted and showed 
green leaves. and the winter met spring









anemones, daughters of winds

i love these words and a history,
legend about them.










2 comments:

  1. i've always been in love with anemones
    blooming in winter
    your christmas tree is the most poetical one ever
    simple and graceful
    as are your marvelous paintings

    ReplyDelete
  2. so serene your budding branches
    in the water
    i remember collecting wild anemones
    with my mother on the slopes of a mountain
    and cyclamen, too.
    a beautiful year to you,
    my dear olga

    ReplyDelete

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warmly,
olga.




olga