Cherry Ripe, by John Everett Millais

-o-0-o-

CHILDREN
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Come to me, O ye children,
For I hear you at your play,
And the questions that perplexed me
Have vanished quite away.

Ye open the eastern windows,
That look towards the sun,
Where thoughts are singing swallows
And the brooks of morning run.

In your hearts are the birds and the sunshine,
In your thoughts the brooklet's flow,
But in mine is the wind of Autumn
And the first fall of the snow.

Ah! what would the world be to us
If the children were no more?
We should dread the desert behind us
Worse than the dark before.

What the leaves are to the forest,
With light and air for food,
Ere their sweet and tender juices
Have been hardened into wood,

That to the world are children;
Through them it feels the glow
Of a brighter and sunnier climate
Than reaches the trunks below.

Come to me, O ye children,
And whisper in my ear
What the birds and the winds are singing
In your sunny atmosphere.

For what are all our contrivings,
And the wisdom of our books,
When compared with your caresses,
And the gladness of your looks?

Ye are better than all the ballads
That ever were sung or said,
For ye are living poems,
And all the rest are dead.

-o-0-o-


Bubbles, by John Everett Millais

-o-0-o-

Last week's post was the one hundredth to John's Quiet Corner and today's post brings the series to an end.
Perhaps regular followers of Quiet Corner will find things of interest in some of my other blogs.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

The Garden at Bayou Bend, Houston, Texas

If it's drama that you sigh for, plant a garden and you'll get it.
You will know the thrill of battle, fighting foes that will beset it.
If you long for entertainment and for pageantry most glowing,
Plant a garden and this summer spend your time with green things growing. (Edward A. Guest)

-o-0-o-

What is so sweet and dear
As a prosperous morn in May,
The confident prime of the day,
And the dauntless youth of the year,
When nothing that asks for bliss,
Asking aright, is denied,
And half of the world a bridegroom is,
And half of the world a bride? (William Watson)

-o-0-o-


The Garden at Schönbrunn Palace, Vienna

The world's favourite season is the spring.
All things seem possible in May. (Edwin Way Teale)

-o-0-o-

'Tis like the birthday of the world,
When earth was born in bloom;
The light is made of many dyes,
The air is all perfume:
There's crimson buds, and white and blue,
The very rainbow showers
Have turned to blossoms where they fell,
And sown the earth with flowers. (Thomas Hood)

-o-0-o-


The Japanese Garden at the Devonian Botanical Gardens, Edmonton, Alberta

Be like a flower and turn your face to the sun. (Kahlil Gibran)

-o-0-o-

Thanks to "Public Domain Photos and Images" for the photographs
http://public-domain-images.blogspot.com

-o-0-o-

Now online "Let's Hear That Song Again!" - http://letshearthatsongagain.blogspot.com
and starting on Wednesday
"That Was Another Good Read!" (Great Moments from Classic Fiction) http://thatwasanothergoodread.blogspot.com

"Bird on a Branch"
12th century silk painting by Li Anzhong

-o-0-o-

Do you ask what the birds say? The Sparrow, the Dove,
The Linnet and Thrush say, “I love and I love!”
In the winter they’re silent - the wind is so strong;
What it says, I don’t know, but it sings a loud song,
But green leaves and blossoms, and sunny warm weather,
And singing and loving - all come back together.
But the Lark is so brimful of gladness and love,
The green fields below him, the blue sky above,
Then he sings and he sings, and for ever sings he -
“I love my Love, and my Love loves me.”
(Samuel Taylor Coleridge 1772-1834)

-o-0-o-

Down in the forest something stirred
So faint that I scarcely heard,
But the forest leapt at the sound,
Like a good ship homeward bound.
Down in the forest something stirred,
It was only the song of a bird.
(Harold Simpson ?)

-o-0-o-

All through the night there’s a little brown bird singing,
Singing in the hush of the darkness and the dew.
Would that his song through the stillness could go winging
To you.

All through the night-time my lonely heart is singing
Sweeter songs of love than the brown bird ever knew.
Would that the song of my heart could go winging
To you.
(Harry Rodney Bennett 1890-1948 , under the pseudonym Royden Barrie)

-o-0-o-

Finally, this little video lasts only 28 seconds. When I found it, I kept playing it again and again.



-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Here are two verses from “A Garden Song” by Henry Austin Dobson

Here, in this sequestered close,
Bloom the hyacinth and rose;
Here beside the modest stock
Flaunts the flaring hollyhock;
Here, without a pang, one sees
Ranks, conditions, and degrees.

Here, in alleys cool and green,
Far ahead the thrush is seen;
Here along the southern wall
Keeps the bee his festival;
All is quiet else-afar
Sounds of toil and turmoil are.

-o-0-o-


Dove Cottage, Grasmere where William Wordsworth and his sister Dorothy lived.

-o-0-o-

Wordsworth wrote this poem just before they were leaving home for a few months.

-o-0-o-

Sweet Garden-orchard! of all spots that are
The loveliest surely man hath ever found.
Farewell! we leave thee to heaven's peaceful care.
Thee and the cottage which thou dost surround -

Dear Spot! whom we have watched with tender heed,
Bringing thee chosen plants and blossoms blown
Among the distant mountains, flower and weed
Which thou hast taken to thee as thy own -

O happy Garden! loved for hours of sleep,
O quiet Garden! loved for waking hours.
For soft half-slumbers that did gently steep
Our spirits, carrying with them dreams of flowers -

-o-0-o-


This photo was taken some years ago in the gardens of Brodick Castle

-o-0-o-

Because of continued interest being shown in my JOHN'S GALLERY blog, I intend to add more paintings to the site beginning this Saturday.
The address is - http://johnsgallery.blogspot.com

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

One day a friend called on Michelangelo and found him busy at the final stages of a statue he had been working on.

A week or so later he returned and, finding the sculptor at the same task, said “It appears that you have been idle since I was last here.”

“Indeed, no,” was the answer, “I’ve retouched this part, I’ve polished that part, I’ve softened this feature, I’ve brought out that muscle and I’ve given more expression to the lower lip.”

“But surely all these things are just trifles?” said his friend.

“Perhaps so,” Michelangelo replied, “But trifles make perfection and perfection is no trifle.”

-o-0-o-

This short slide show "Victorian Ladies" is a compilation old photographs and paintings.



-o-0-o-

Finally, some good advice from Sam Levinson -

For attractive lips,
Speak words of kindness.
For lovely eyes,
Seek out the good in people.
For a slim figure,
Share your food with the hungry.
For beautiful hair,
Let a child run his/her fingers through it once a day.
For poise,
Walk with the knowledge that you never walk alone.
People, even more than things,
Have to be restored, renewed, revived, reclaimed,
And redeemed; never throw out anyone.
Remember, if you ever need a helping hand,
You will find one at the end of each of your arms.
As you grow older, you will discover that you have two hands;
One for helping yourself, and the other for helping others.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

-o-0-o-

Bird’s Nest by John Clare 1793-1864

‘Tis spring, warm glows the south,
Chaffinch cherries the moss in his mouth
To filbert hedges all day long,
And charms the poet with his beautiful song;
The wind blows bleak o’er the sedgy fen,
But warm the sun shines by the little wood,
Where the old cow at her leisure chews her cud.

-o-0-o-


Spring by the Pre-Raphaelite painter John Everett Millais 1829-1896

-o-0-o-

The theme of spring continues with this colourful video.
Music by Dmitri Shostakovitch 1906-1975



-o-0-o-

Because of increased interest in my Pre-Raphaelite blog, I have been planning a fourth series and this will begin on Wednesday 6th April
http://myownselection.blogspot.com

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Happiness is like a butterfly which, when pursued, is always beyond our grasp,

but, if you will sit down quietly, may alight upon you. (Nathaniel Hawthorne)

-o-0-o-

-o-0-o-



-o-0-o-


[thanks to http://www.freefoto.com for this photograph]

-o-0-o-

To a Butterfly
by
William Wordsworth

I’ve watched you now a full half-hour;
Self-poised upon that yellow flower
And, little Butterfly! Indeed
I know not if you sleep or feed.
How motionless! - not frozen seas
More motionless! and then
What joy awaits you, when the breeze
Hath found you out among the trees,
And calls you forth again!

-o-0-o-



-o-0-o-

An Irish Blessing

May the wings of the butterfly kiss the sun
And find your shoulder to light on,
To bring you luck, happiness and riches
Today, tomorrow and beyond.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

MONDAY 21ST MARCH

A Field of Lavender
[with thanks to FreeFoto.com]

-o-0-o-

And lavender, whose spikes of azure bloom
Shall be, ere awhile, in arid bundles bound
To lurk amidst the labours of her loom,
And crown her kerchiefs with mickle rare perfume.
(William Shenstone from “The Schoolmistress” 1742)

-o-0-o-

Here’s your sweet lavender,
Sixteen sprigs a penny,
That you’ll find my ladies
Will smell as sweet as any.
(London lavender seller’s cry 1900)

-o-0-o-


A Lavender Farm at Hokkaido, Japan

-o-0-o-

Lavender, sweet lavender;
Come and buy my lavender,
Hide it in your trousseau, lady fair.
Let its lovely fragrance flow
Over you from head to toe,
Lightening your eyes, your cheek, your hair.
(Cumberland Clark - Flower Song Book 1929)

-o-0-o-

The well-known song "Lavender's Blue, dilly dilly" dates from the 17th century. There are around 30 verses to the song and there are many variations to the words. However, there's just one verse in a children's book "Songs for the Nursery" which was published in 1805 and here are the words -

Lavender blue and Rosemary green,
When I am king you shall be queen;
Call up my maids at four o'clock,
Some to the wheel and some to the rock,
Some to make hay and some to shear corn,
And you and I will keep the bed warm.

-o-0-o-

The music here was composed by Nigel Hess for the film "Ladies in Lavender." The violinist is Joshua Bell and the video was devised by "xyCuriosityxy"



-o-0-o-


Norman tells me that there are 152 million blogs worldwide. He invites you to join him at the new blog COME SURF THE NET when it begins on Saturday 26th March
http://comesurfthenet.blogspot.com

Thanks to http://www.graphicshunt.com for the cartoon image

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

-o-0-o-

The Selfsame Song

A bird sings the selfsame song,
With never a fault in its flow,
That we listened to here those long
Long years ago.

A pleasing marvel is how
A strain of such rapturous rote
Should have gone on thus till now
Unchanged in a note!

But it’s not the selfsame bird.
No, perished to dust is he. . . .
As also are those who heard
That song with me. (Thomas Hardy)

-o-0-o-


A Bouquet of Flowers by William Arthur Breakspeare

-o-0-o-

In this video Francesco Libetta plays the Pizzicato Polka (Sylvia) by Leo Délibes.
Notice how he plays much of the main theme with one finger!




Norman the Nerd says, “Hallo again! Did you know that 21.4 million new websites were added during 2010?”

The new blog COME SURF THE NET beginning on 26th March looks at just a few of the many interesting and fascinating sites. The address is - http://comesurfthenet.blogspot.com

-o-0-o-

Thanks to http://www.graphicshunt.com for the cartoon image

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Some wise words from Sweden . . . .

Fear less, hope more.
Whine less, breathe more.
Talk less, say more.
Hate less, love more,
And all good things are yours.

-o-0-o-

Something different . . . .


Painted by the Chinese artist Huang Quan 903-965

-o-0-o-

A short story . . . .

Once upon a time a rich man had planned a great banquet to celebrate a military victory. However only one thing threatened the success of the meal; because of severe storms at sea, no boat had been able to set sail, and so there wasn’t a fish to be had anywhere in the whole area.

Early in the morning of the great day, an old fisherman appeared at the gate carrying an enormous fish, big enough to feed the whole company. The rich man was delighted and told the old fellow to name his price, and promised to give him anything he wanted.

“My price is one hundred lashes on my bare back,” was the answer, “and unless you give that, I won’t give you the fish!”

Of course the rich man was astonished at this, but the fisherman insisted, and so a servant was ordered to administer the flogging.

When fifty lashes had been given, the old man said, “Stop there! I have a partner in my work, and it’s only fair that he should have his share.”

“All right,” said the rich man, “And where is he?”

“He’s at your gate,” was the reply, “He’s your porter - he wouldn’t let me in, till I promised that he should have half of whatever I got for the fish.”

So the porter was summoned and, somewhat bewildered, received his fifty lashes.

As the fisherman turned to leave, the rich man called him back and gave him fifty gold coins.

There should be a moral in this tale somewhere, but I’m not sure what it is!

-o-0-o-

This music here is “Gabriel’s Oboe” by Ennio Morricone. The soloist is Carlo Romano, accompanied by the RAI National Symphony Orchestra

-o-0-o-

“Hi there! Excuse me butting in at Quiet Corner. I’m Norman the Nerd from COME SURF THE NET which begins on 26th March. More details next week. Bye just now!”

Norman appears thanks to - http://www.graphicshunt.com

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

A picture, a poem, a painting

and a piece of music

-o-0-o-

-o-0-o-

Happy the man, whose wish and care
A few paternal acres bound,
Content to breathe his native air
In his own ground.

Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread,
Whose flocks supply him with attire;
Whose trees in summer yield him shade,
In winter fire.

Blest, who can unconcernedly find
Hours, days and years slide soft away
In health of body, peace of mind,
Quiet by day,

Sound sleep at night; study and ease
Together mixed; sweet recreation,
And innocence, which most does please
With meditation.

Thus let me live, unseen, unknown;
Thus unlamented let me die;
Steal from the world, and not a stone
Tell where I lie.

-o-0-o-



-o-0-o-



-o-0-o-

the picture - from stumbleupon.com
the poem - Alexander Pope 1688-1744
the painting - A Summer Morning by E.A. Walton 1860-1922
the music - Aquarium (The Carnival of the Animals) by Saint-Saens played by 4 girls 4 harps and choir

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

-o-0-o-

Two poems by Thomas Hardy

-o-0-o-

Waiting Both

A star looks down at me,
And says, “Here I and you
Stand, each in our degree;
What do you mean to do -
Mean to do?”

I say, “For all I know,
Wait, and let Time go by,
Till my change come,” “Just so,”
The star says, “So mean I -
So mean I.”

-o-0-o-

Any Little Old Song

Any little old song
Will do for me,
Tell it of joys gone long,
Or joys to be,
Or friendly faces best
Loved to see.

Newest themes I want not
On subtle strings,
And for thrillings pant not
That new song brings;
I only need the homeliest
Of heartstrings.

-o-0-o-


A Scene at Arran, Scotland by William Dyce

-o-0-o-

Thanks to “pray2U4ever” for this video. The music is Boccherini’s Minuet which comes from his String Quintet in E.

-o-0-o-

Tomorrow at John’s Gallery - Five paintings by John William Godward
http://johnsgallery.blogspot.com

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

For Valentine's Day . . . .

“Oh, ‘tis love, ‘tis love that makes the world go around” -
- according to the Duchess, in Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll.
The origin of the phrase may be a French song from the early 18th century:
C’est l’amour, c’est l’amour
Qui fait la monde
A la ronde.

A love letter

Yes, I now feel that it was then on that evening of sweet dreams - that the very first dawn of human love burst upon the icy night of my spirit. Since that period I have never seen nor heard your name without a shiver half of delight, half of anxiety. For years your name never passed my lips, while my soul drank in, with a delirious thirst, all that was uttered in my presence respecting you. (Edgar Allan Poe 1809-1849)

-o-0-o-

A love poem

True love is a sacred flame
That burns eternally,
And none can dim its special glow
Or change its destiny.

True love speaks in tender tones
And hears with gentle ear,
True love gives with open heart
And true love conquers fear.

True love makes no harsh demands
It neither rules nor binds,
And true love holds with gentle hands
The hearts that it entwines. (Anon)

-o-0-o-

And a love song by Jack Payne and his Orchestra from 1932



Today at John’s Gallery -
Five paintings by Adolphe-William Bouguereau
http://johnsgallery.blogspot.com

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

-o-0-o-

The Fallow Deer at the Lonely House
by
Thomas Hardy

One without looks in tonight
Through the curtain-chink
From the sheet of glistening white;
One without looks in tonight
As we sit and think
By the fender-brink.

We do not discern those eyes
Watching in the snow;
Lit by lamps of rosy dyes
We do not discern those eyes
Wondering, aglow,
Fourfooted, tiptoe.



With thanks to FreeFoto.com for the use of both photographs

-o-0-o-

I'm very enthusiastic about this video which was devised by Myriliam of Austria. "Winter" is performed by Qntal, a German group who describe their style as “electro-medieval.” The singer is Syra and the words are old German.



-o-0-o-

Today’s painting at JOHN’S GALLERY
The Soul of the Rose, by John William Waterhouse
http://johnsgallery.blogspot.com

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

The tree which moves some to tears of joy is in the eyes of others only a green thing that stands in the way. Some see nature all ridicule and deformity, and some scarce see nature at all.

But to the eyes of the man of imagination, nature is imagination itself. (William Blake 1757-1827)

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o'er-darkened ways::
Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon,
Trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon
For simple sheep; and such are daffodils
With the green world they live in; and clear rills
That for themselves a cooling covert make
'Gainst the hot season; the mid forest brake,
Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms:
And such too is the grandeur of the dooms
We have imagined for the mighty dead;
All lovely tales that we have heard or read:
An endless fountain of immortal drink,
Pouring unto us from the heaven's brink. (John Keats 1795-1821)

A Stream beneath Poplars (Lilla Cabot Perry 1848-1933)

I can enjoy society in a room, but out-of-doors company is enough for me. (William Hazlitt 1778-1830)

-o-0-o-

This video was devised by the pianist Edward Weiss
http://www.quiescencemusic.com



Have you discovered the Poetry Path yet?

http://thepoetrypath.blogspot.com

***The Poetry Path***The Poetry Path***The Poetry Path***

Loveliest of lovely things are they

On earth that soonest pass away.
The rose that lives its little hour
Is prized beyond the sculptured flower.
(William Cullen Bryant)

Thanks to FreeFoto. com

Go pretty rose, go to my fair,
Go tell her all I fain would dare,
Tell her of hope; tell her of spring,
Tell her of all I fain would sing,
Oh! were I like thee, so fair a thing.
(Michael Beverly)

-o-0-o-

Here are a few quotations that took my fancy . . . .

A thorn defends the rose, harming only those who would steal the blossom. (Chinese Proverb)

Gather the rose of love whilst yet is time. (Edmund Spenser)

I'd rather have roses on my table than diamonds round my neck. (Emma Goldman)

The fragrance always stays in the hand that gives the rose. (George William Curtis)

Send two dozen roses to Room 424 and put "Emily, I love you" on the back of the bill. (Groucho Marx)

-o-0-o-

Robert Burns was born on 25th January 1721, so it seems appropriate to include his best known poem here.

O, my love is like a red, red rose
That’s newly sprung in June;
My love is like a melody
That's sweetly played in tune.

As fair art thou, my bonny lass,
So deep in love am I;
And I will love thee still, my dear,
Till a' the seas gang dry.

Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi' the sun;
I will love thee still, my dear,
While the sands o' life shall run.

And fare thee weel, my only love!
And fare thee weel, awhile!
And I will come again, my love,
Though it were ten thousand mile.

-o-0-o-

Thanks to “rulivede” for this short “time lapse” video

My new paintings blog began on Saturday at -
http://johnsgallery.blogspot.com

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

This is a story about a monk who was in charge of a Zen Temple garden. He made sure that all the flower beds, bushes and trees were always kept neat and tidy.

He was thrilled to hear that a famous Zen Master, having heard of the beautiful garden, was coming to see it. On the day before the visit the monk worked tirelessly to make sure that everything was in order.

Accompanied by his students, the Master walked round the garden, smiling approval at everything he saw. Finally he walked over to the tree in the centre of the garden, seized hold of it by the trunk and shook it violently. Leaves showered down all over the ground. He turned to the monk and said, “You have a real garden now.”

-o-0-o-

"In my garden there is a large place for sentiment. My garden of flowers is also my garden of thoughts and dreams. The thoughts grow as freely as the flowers, and the dreams are as beautiful." (Abram L. Urban)

-o-0-o-

Breezes in the long grass ruffling my hair,
Hollyhock and bluebell scenting the air;
Nothing in the world can ever be
Such a sweet memory.
Nothing in the world was ever so fair.

I leave my heart in an English garden,
Safe where the elm and the oak stand by.
Though the years rise and roll away,
Still shall those watchmen stay,
Bold in the blue of an English sky.

I leave my dreams in an English garden,
Safe where the breezes of England blow.
When the highways are dark and drear,
I know there's sunshine here,
Bright where the roses of England grow.
(Christopher Hassall)

-o-0-o-

Click to enlarge
-o-0-o-

A second series of Pre-Raphaelite paintings has now begun at -
http://myownselection.blogspot.com

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

MONDAY 10TH JANUARY

A Village in the Snow (artist unknown)
To enlarge, click on the painting
-o-0-o-

Two Thomas Hardy poems with a Christmas flavour . . . .

SEEN BY THE WAITS

Through snowy woods and shady
We went to play a tune
To the lonely manor-lady
By the light of the Christmas moon.

We violed till, upward glancing
To where a mirror leaned,
It showed her airily dancing,
Deeming her movements screened.

Dancing alone in the room there,
Thin-draped in her robe of night;
Her postures, glassed in the gloom there,
Were a strange phantasmal sight.

She had learnt (we heard when homing)
That her roving spouse was dead;
Why she had danced in the gloaming
We thought, but never said.

-o-0-o-

CHRISTMASTIDE

The rain-shafts splintered on me
As despondently I strode;
The twilight gloomed upon me
And bleared the blank high-road.
Each bush gave forth, when blown on
By gusts in shower and shower,
A sigh, as it were sown on
In handfuls by a sower.

A cheerful voice called, nigh me,
“A Merry Christmas, friend!”
There rose a figure by me,
Walking with townward trend,
A sodden tramp’s, who, breaking
Into thin song, bore straight
Ahead, direction taking
Toward the Casual’s gate.

The Casual referred to here is a 19th century lodging house where homeless people, if they were lucky, could find accommodation for the night.

This painting “The Casual Ward” by Samuel Luke Fildes shows a group waiting to be admitted.

To enlarge, click on the painting
-o-0-o-

Thanks to http://www.dhuting.com for this video taken at the Havasupai Indian Reservation, Arizona



-o-0-o-

My new blog THE POETRY PATH is now active at -
http://thepoetrypath.blogspot.com

-o-0-o-