They rush along, the daughters of the wind,
Grey-eyed, strong-limbed, their dust-brown hair swirled back.
The children of the great warm west are they.
One, high among the white cloud domes that hang
So lazy in the sky, stirs them to life.
Another skims across the grass that bends
In silver waves beneath her scarce-felt tread.
Then, darting up, past twinkling maple leaves,
Bows down the tall elm’s crown.
But onward, ever onward still they rush,
And meeting in the wood, sigh through the pines
And pass and leave behind in drowsy heat,
A breathless calm, close-wrappings like a shroud.

– Margaret Adams Hobbs





dress Snowpaws Windsong tropic frock, new release, shown in morning dew! thank you Carrie ❤

hair Analog Dog Iota in light browns

headband Lode Boohoo in summer


shot on location at Rosemoor




Geef een reactie

Gelieve met een van deze methodes in te loggen om je reactie te plaatsen: logo

Je reageert onder je account. Log uit /  Bijwerken )

Google photo

Je reageert onder je Google account. Log uit /  Bijwerken )


Je reageert onder je Twitter account. Log uit /  Bijwerken )

Facebook foto

Je reageert onder je Facebook account. Log uit /  Bijwerken )

Verbinden met %s