Sunday, October 31, 2010

Dancing leaves

~ A Whirl-Blast from behind the hill ~ by William Wordsworth~

A Whirl-Blast from behind the hill
Rushed o'er the wood with startling sound;
Then--all at once the air was still,
And showers of hailstones pattered round.
Where leafless oaks towered high above,
I sat within an undergrove
Of tallest hollies, tall and green;
A fairer bower was never seen.
From year to year the spacious floor
With withered leaves is covered o'er,
And all the year the bower is green.
But see! where'er the hailstones drop
The withered leaves all skip and hop;
There's not a breeze--no breath of air--
Yet here, and there, and everywhere
Along the floor, beneath the shade
By those embowering hollies made,
The leaves in myriads jump and spring,
As if with pipes and music rare
Some Robin Good-fellow were there,
And all those leaves, in festive glee,
Were dancing to the minstrelsy.







The French for dancing is danse,
Dance floor is piste de danse
Belly dancing is danse du ventre

PS I hope that you liked the poem.


Arti said...

Lovely pics... Very beautiful!!
And yes, the poem is very well written... Very descriptive! My Yatra Diary...

Anonymous said...


Ken Devine said...

Yes Blu, the poem is good. I loved the still photogrpah BTW. I'm really looking forward to walking through woods with snow underfoot...something I haven't experienced yet in all my 58 years.

Leovi said...

Beautiful colors and delicious light.

sarala said...

These are some lovely photos.