No words, just a swirl of colours, and as always a little poem, not wholly apposite, but sort of mandatory!
While the hum and the hurry
Of passing footfalls
Beat in my ear like the restless surf
Of a wind-blown sea,
A soul came to me
Out of the look on a face.
Eyes like a lake
Where a storm-wind roams
Caught me from under
The rim of a hat.
I thought of a mid-sea wreck
and bruised fingers clinging
to a broken state-room door.
~ Carl Sandburg ~
Of passing footfalls
Beat in my ear like the restless surf
Of a wind-blown sea,
A soul came to me
Out of the look on a face.
Eyes like a lake
Where a storm-wind roams
Caught me from under
The rim of a hat.
I thought of a mid-sea wreck
and bruised fingers clinging
to a broken state-room door.
~ Carl Sandburg ~
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5 comments:
Beautiful - I want his hat.
PS. What was the occasion, or is this a collection of images taken over a period of time?
Beautiful indeed! And wonderful word!
Uneasy lies the head that is draped with such a riot of colours.
Thank you, Ann, Vinayak, Ravinder!
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