Hermione

Hermione

"

I'm new

"
Strawberry Fields, MI
Offline Offline

Send Message Send Message
Invite to Groups Invite to Groups
Add to Friends Add to Friends
Subscribe Subscribe
Block Writer Block Writer



About Me

Speak, sir, and be wise.
Speak choosing your words, sir, like an old woman over a bushel of apples.





Comments

[send message]

Posted 7 Years Ago


Thanks for approving my friend request! =]

[send message]

Posted 7 Years Ago


Hmm, well thanks for replying! :)

[send message]

Posted 7 Years Ago


The Magic Lake

There is a secret pool,
Dew-fed and still,
Ringed by the blossomed gorse
And heather hill.
Whose waters,
Changing not with drought or cold,
Know sailing pomp
Of cloud and mirrored gold;

Shy creatures of the glen
Stoop there to drink
And sleepng lilies
Freight the shallow brink.

Never fish swims,
Dark roach or speckled trout,
Darting from burnished stones
Swift in and out.

Sunken deep down,
Yet strangely green and near,
The swinging elfland
City may appear.

With tranced turret reared
And lights to the stream
As now the sunset
Colours glance and gleam.

Red mosses bind the edge,
And dim blue flowers
So small that they might
Gem Titania's bowers;

The Heron drowses;
And the dragon-fly
Makes minute music there
Sustained and high;

And when the moon-dappled shadows
Stretch and bar
The tangled reeds
Net each a silver star.

- Kathleen Foyle -