variegated sky
Jan. 14th, 2007 02:06 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
incandescenshttp://missedmanners.wordpress.com/2007/01/12/what-i-did-over-christmas-vacation/ -- certainly more dramatic than anything I did over Christmas.
The weather today didn't quite get into fullscale rain (or at least not while I was outside) but it did think about it and patter on me a few times. The sky was a lovely whorl of mixed greys and blacks, the sort of thing that would make splendid colours for yarn.
I've really come to like variegated (or whatever the proper term for them is) yarns. Not that straight colours aren't also wonderful, but the mingled-colour sort can be so gorgeous. Or perhaps I've just been lucky in my encounters.
I'm waiting for the cold weather to hit.
---
The Witches' Wood
There was a wood, a witches' wood,
All the trees therein were pale.
They bore no branches green and good,
But as it were a gray nun's veil.
They talked and chattered in the wind
From morning dawn to set of sun,
Like men and women that have sinned,
Whose thousand evil tongues are one.
Their roots were like the hands of men,
Grown hard and brown with clutching gold.
Their foliage women's tresses when
The hair is withered, thin, and old.
There never did a sweet bird sing
For happy love about his nest.
The clustered bats in evil wing
Each hollow trunk and bough possessed.
And in the midst a pool there lay
Of water white, as tho' a scare
Had frightened off the eye of day
And kept the Moon reflected there.
-- Mary E. Coleridge
The weather today didn't quite get into fullscale rain (or at least not while I was outside) but it did think about it and patter on me a few times. The sky was a lovely whorl of mixed greys and blacks, the sort of thing that would make splendid colours for yarn.
I've really come to like variegated (or whatever the proper term for them is) yarns. Not that straight colours aren't also wonderful, but the mingled-colour sort can be so gorgeous. Or perhaps I've just been lucky in my encounters.
I'm waiting for the cold weather to hit.
---
The Witches' Wood
There was a wood, a witches' wood,
All the trees therein were pale.
They bore no branches green and good,
But as it were a gray nun's veil.
They talked and chattered in the wind
From morning dawn to set of sun,
Like men and women that have sinned,
Whose thousand evil tongues are one.
Their roots were like the hands of men,
Grown hard and brown with clutching gold.
Their foliage women's tresses when
The hair is withered, thin, and old.
There never did a sweet bird sing
For happy love about his nest.
The clustered bats in evil wing
Each hollow trunk and bough possessed.
And in the midst a pool there lay
Of water white, as tho' a scare
Had frightened off the eye of day
And kept the Moon reflected there.
-- Mary E. Coleridge
no subject
Date: 2007-01-15 10:06 pm (UTC)