"Annihilating all that's made
To a green thought in a green shade."
The Garden by Andrew Marvell
(Click on the words above to read the whole poem.)
No fair flowers or tree-buds are showing themselves on these mild late February days. So I wanted to write something about all the green shoots against sheltering walls and tree trunks: the tiny grass-like stems of grape hyacinths, the new blades preparing for the showy iris.
And up popped Andrew Marvell's line, except I couldn't remember from whom, from when, from where. (That's the confession part of this Winter Confession.)
Blessings on the Google search engine--found "The Garden" in two tries on the search words "a green shade poetry."
And right away I was in a 17th century landscape.
As good a place to escape to as any, I reckon.
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