White down
so high
and yet so lowly, soft,
your flecks of light
where brown turf darkens
damp,
so innocently growing
'spite the weather,
torn clouds,
against the blue or grey,
beside you green of moss
stone, heather,
grasses, hay,
not lauded
given honours like the rose
but there the mountain knows
your sweet repose.
Comments
But I have seen them Rosi
That's why I could write about those little cotton wool-like soft tufts of down growing often on the cracked brown earth shivering in the breezes.
I love them, their sight is always with me whenever I wish to dial it up. Like Britain, it too is here inside me. Love to you Ann.
Blessings
SO GREAT TO SEE YOUR NAME ON HERE TODAY
Yes I am shouting - smile
Nice to read you and hope you get the computer up and running. Missed reading you. Welcome back friend - snow lady of Norway.
Love and Hugs
Mona
Agreed with all.
This is beautiful. wesley
Wonderful
The calm I was looking for this chaotic morning. A tranquil piece.
Hi
And here I was thinking you were writing about a type of white frost flower. I expect you have accurately described the cotton flowers as they bloom in the mountains.............stan
I'm not sure...
what cotten grass or flowers are, but I have seen little white puffy flowers on long grass like stems and I think that is what they may be. As always, you have made a beautiful picture in my mind of brilliant blue sky and wind torn clouds behind grey and brown mountains. I can almost feel the wind! ~ Love to my queen, ~ Sir Gee
Hi Ann, what a treat both
Hi Ann, what a treat both you and Jayne-Chloe revisiting Neo on the same day.
the mountain laurel
sways
holds the wind at bay
~
Hello Ann,
So nice to see you again! Love the imagery of this piece!
always, Cat
Translated my first
Thank you all, I am not actively back much, but still around, I have to use another computer as mine is playing up damn it!
..This is just the time for a walk in the mountains to enjoy the sight of
MYRULL
Kvite dun
så høgt på strå
og likevel så kravlaus, mjuk.
Lysa dine logar
der torva mørknar
fuktig, brun.
Du veks uskuldig, rein
trass uvêr,
rivne skyer
mot det blå og grå.
Ved sida di er grøne mosen,
stein, lyng,
vier, gras.
Ikkje lovprisa
eller gjeve hedersteikn, som rosa bar;
men fjellet kjenner til
din vakre kvilestad.
M. A. Waddicor
Gjendikting: Åse Lilleskare Faugstad
I know you won't be able to read it but 'quand même' luvAnn.
just lovely annanya
just lovely annanya
- nothing to crit
- so peaceful...
'not lauded
given honours like the rose
but there the mountain knows
your sweet repose.'
love judyanne