Swedes

THEY have taken the gable from the roof of clay
On the long swede pile. They have let in the sun
To the white and gold and purple of curled fronds
Unsunned. It is a sight more tender-gorgeous
At the wood-corner where Winter moans and drips
This is a dream of Winter, sweet as Spring.

Poem by Edward Thomas and blip -my entry into
Missymoo's Challenge this week.

Hey! Just found out my croscus carpet from yesterday hit the spotlight page!! Wow, many many thanks to everyone who stopped by :) Blip rocks