August Midnight..

A shaded lamp and a waving blind,
And the beat of a clock from a distant floor:
On this scene enter--winged, horned, and spined -
A longlegs, a moth, and a dumbledore;
While 'mid my page there idly stands
A sleepy fly, that rubs its hands . . .

Thus meet we five, in this still place,
At this point of time, at this point in space.
- My guests parade my new-penned ink,
Or bang at the lamp-glass, whirl, and sink.
"God's humblest, they!" I muse. Yet why?
They know Earth-secrets that know not I.

An August Midnight by Thomas Hardy

Entering my birds-nest....pale moonlight trough my window..shadows of Hilltop trees bending..waving in the dark..a distant call of an owl..I'm home..I pick up my pen ..there are stories waiting to be told..drawings to be drawn..



The Dutchess continuous...


Art-1-William Henry Hunt-2-Penelope P. Neal.