Sunday night poetry.Here's a crisp, stirring little poem which makes my insides flicker. I dedicate it to all those aloof, yet charming characters. I hope you like it, enjoy your Sunday night.If You Came - Ruth Pitter
If you came to my secret glade,Weary with heat,
I would set you down in the shade
I would wash your feet
If you came in the winter sad,Wanting for bread,
I would give you the last that I had,I would give you my bed.
But the place is hidden apart,Like a nest by a brook,
And I will not show you my heart,
By a word, by a look.
This place is hidden apart
Like the nest of a bird:
And I will not show you my heart
By a look, by a word.
(images found via tumblr, click them to find out exactly where.)
Staying up all night. Sleep in the day.
Following the Summer Bash last night I have spent the entire day in bed, only emerging a little while ago to fetch a cup of tea.
The night began with cider round at one of my loveliest friends houses, followed by a trip to the summer bash fairground on campus..( where i worried about the safety of the rides,) before heading inside for more drinks and dancing... followed by late night chats and falling asleep at dawn.
.. as for now..I can't think of a better way to spend the day after rather than lounging around in my cosy, floral bedsheets, with the window open and listening to intermittent rain showers. Of course, sleeping all day is made all the better when you know that on a grey Sunday in June, after one of the best nights of the year, there is nothing worth getting out of bed for..
and, even better, knowing that there is someone worth staying IN bed for... ♥
