longing for green…

I miss green.

I miss the sound of green leaves chattering in a warm breeze, and green dappled light.

 Perhaps next week will feel more like spring.

barn with birds

Willsboro, NY

messy back yard

Salem, MA

Gone were but the Winter,
Come were but the Spring,
I would go to a covert
Where the birds sing.

Where in the whitethom
Singeth a thrush,
And a robin sings
In the holly-bush.

Full of fresh scents
Are the budding boughs
Arching high over
A cool green house:

Full of sweet scents,
And whispering air
Which sayeth softly:
“We spread no snare;

“Here dwell in safety,
Here dwell alone,
With a clear stream
And a mossy stone.

“Here the sun shineth
Most shadily;
Here is heard an echo
Of the far sea,
Though far off it be.

 

~Spring Quiet

By Christina Rossetti

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