Poetry is the achievement of the
synthesis of hyacinths and biscuits.
0000000000000000Carl Sandburg
0000000000000000Carl Sandburg
My friends brought this hyacinth last Friday — tonight I took this picture of it but not until afterwards did I think of how well this quotation goes with the photo. There are no biscuits in the picture but the book is Dana Rigg's "So to the Land — An Anthology of Countryside Poetry".
This was what I was looking for:
He has hanged himself — the Sun.
He dangles
A scarecrow in thin air.
He is dead for love — the Sun
He who in forest tangles
Wooed all things fair.
That great lover — the Sun
Now spangles
The wood with blood-stains.
He has hanged himself — the Sun.
How thin he dangles
In these gray rains!
0000000000November
This was what I was looking for:
He has hanged himself — the Sun.
He dangles
A scarecrow in thin air.
He is dead for love — the Sun
He who in forest tangles
Wooed all things fair.
That great lover — the Sun
Now spangles
The wood with blood-stains.
He has hanged himself — the Sun.
How thin he dangles
In these gray rains!
0000000000November
00000000F. W. Harvey, 1888-1957
