Leisure

What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.

No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.

No time to see, in broad day light,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.

No time to turn at beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.

No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.

A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

W H Davies


Mr Davies was a Welshman and sometime tramp and many other things besides. Having just looked him up I feel the need to read a biography on him now. Anyway, this morning I popped over to see the Belties down the road. They'd just been fed by the National Trust warden and, as you can see, they are messy eaters. Friendly chaps though.

In other news, the sun made a brief appearance; it's good to know it's still up there somewhere.