Sunday, 14 November 2010

rememberance











.........this morning the world looked fresh and newly emerging from its misty garments....for a brief hour before the rain set in.....
.........the cows saunter past oblivious to the snuffing Scottie dog beside them......they walk a time worn path through the gorse.....stopping only to munch on fallen leaves....
.........the sun briefly shining through dappled clouds.........a pair of swans flew low..the air beating through their wings the only noise....
then in the distance the ringing of church bells....peeling.....
this is my picture of England today .......
.
.
The Solider
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If I should die, think only this of me:
That there’s some corner of a foreign field
That is for ever England. There shall be
In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;
A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,
Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam,
A body of England’s, breathing English air,
Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.
.
And think, this heart, all evil shed away,
A pulse in the eternal mind, no less
Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given;
Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;
And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,
In hearts at peace, under an English heaven.
Rupert Brook



1 comments:

steven said...

i really admire these photographs - so misty - and then rupert brooke - one of my favourite writers alongside henry williamson and mary webb and thomas hardy. thanks, steven