THISTLE SEED HEADS

I started the day with some gardenwork, while it was still cool, but seen enough the heat fell upon me. At that time I had seen that the thistle that miraculously had grown between the stones, was full of seedheads.
The sun shone upon it and I got my camera.
After drinking coffee I read further in book written by Rilke: Die Aufzeichnungen des Malte Laurids Brigge. The strange thing is that I have here two editions only, one in dutch and one french copy. I read the dutch version.
A very sombre book, so I take pauses now and then. The  I read a poem of this famous author.
When I was a child I loved to read poetry. I remember a year at school at we were asked to learn by heart a poem and recite it on the Saturday morning lessons. I still see myself lying in bed at Friday night, saying the lines till I could remember it. They were sweet, rather sentimental poems, I was only ten or eleven years old, I think.
Later in life I forget about poetry, I worked so hard and poems ask for long moments of serenity (or that is what I thought). Now at the age of seventy I will start again. Reading the biography of Rilke I thought would make it easier. I feel rather curious about how it will go.

My haiku:

Images of far
Away lands where the seed heads
Will land and florish

And the proverb:

He/She who has not seen Seville, has not seen a wonder.

1748  Smollett.  Tr. Gil Blas.

I have not seen Seville!!