Saturday, September 26, 2009

Calvary Color Shots

From fields where glory does not stay and
Early though the laurel grows
It withers quicker than the rose...
And round that early laurelled head
Will flock to gaze the strengthless dead
And find unwirthered on it's curls
The garland ...AE Housman

The Grave is but a covered bridge,

Leading from Light to Light

Through a brief DarknessI can not see what flowers are at my feet,

Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs,

But, in embalmed darkness guess each sweet scent Art is long and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts though stout and brave,
Still like muffled drums are beating
Funeral marches to the grave

1 comment:

  1. Hello Wendie! Such a touching post! Your photos are a perfect addition to these words. Your banner photo is beautiful too! Have a great Friday!

    Lisa :)