TRIP TO HISTORIC BATH POEM 35

Blustery and cold, the wind was across the park today. A grey atmosphere accompanied the chill. It is the beginning of the year once more and life continues to career towards Spring.

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“The atmosphere beneath is languorous, and is so tinged with azure that what artists call the middle distance partakes also of that hue, while the horizon beyond is of the deepest ultramarine.” Thomas Hardy

Beyond The Madding Crowd

Afar I spy you on a bench,

In the deserted market square,

It is all done, there is no more,

No where to haste or thither to run.

What are you spying over your

Paper loosely read as if attention

Were the letters themselves,

Only ordered at will and lazy?

Forfeit your secret and tell,

For I know a secret too,

I wager you would want

To know what lurks inside.

So cast aside your work,

And come with me to find,

What I conceal not with paper,

Or letters but only with my smile.

“That had been the real beginning—the beginning of everything else.” Henry James