Come o’er the eastern hills, and let our winds
Kiss thy perfumèd garments; let us taste
Thy morn and evening breath; scatter thy pearls
Upon our lovesick land that mourns for thee.
O deck her forth with thy fair fingers; pour
Thy soft kisses on her bosom; and put
Thy golden crown upon her languish’d head,
Whose modest tresses are bound up for thee.
(From: To Spring by William Blake, 1783)
These photographs were taken today – Wisteria, Almond and Mandarin. You can play ‘spot the ant’ if you wish.
© con jamón spain