Go to Sleep, Darlings... “I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields It covers them snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says, Go to Sleep, Darlings, till the summer comes again.” Lewis Carroll
Ah! what pleasant visions haunt me
As I gaze upon the sea!
All the old romantic legends,
All my dreams, come back to me
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Ah! what pleasant visions haunt me
As I gaze upon the sea!
All the old romantic legends,
All my dreams, come back
to me.
Till my soul is full of longing
For the secret of the sea,
And the heart of the great ocean
Sends a thrilling pulse through me.
LISTEN
I always like to change things in my paintings as I paint and return to them often. Looking at the painting in a different light of day helps me see things I might have missed the day before. I wasn't sure about leaving the trunks without their leaves needles. When I finally decided to add the needles to the trees, I was happy I did.
A pine stand in the woods is always fragrant and delightful.
★★★★SALEM ★★★★ 2023
Handmade Original
Measures 10 x 8
Material : Acrylic Painting
Signed and Dated
~Artist retains copyright ownership and all reproduction rights to the artwork.
©AnnabelleandM
I couldn't sleep but I remembered my dream... Salem returned.
Here is a spooky cute poem by
Ian Serraillier,
"Ian Serraillier was an English novelist and poet. He retold legends from England, Greece and Rome and was best known for his children's books, especially The Silver Sword, a wartime adventure story that the BBC adapted for television in 1957 and again in 1971." ~ Wikipedia
‘The Visitor’, by Ian Serraillier
A crumbling churchyard, the sea, and the moon; The waves had gouged out grave and bone;
A man was walking, late and alone...
He saw a skeleton on the ground; A ring on a bony finger he found.
He ran home to his wife and gave her the ring. “Oh, where did you get it?” He said not a thing.
“It’s the loveliest ring in the world,” she said,
As it glowed on her finger. They slipped off to bed.
At midnight they woke. In the dark outside, “Give me my ring!” a chill voice cried.
“What was that, William? What did it say?” “Don’t’ worry, my dear. It’ll soon go away.”
“I’m coming!” A skeleton opened the door. “Give me my ring!” It was crossing the floor.
“What was that, William? What did it say?” “Don’t’ worry, my dear. It’ll soon go away.”
“I’m reaching you now! I’m climbing the bed.” The wife pulled the sheet right over her head.
It was torn from her grasp and tossed in the air: “I’ll drag you out of bed by the hair!”
“What was that, William? What did it say?”
“Throw the ring through the window! THROW IT AWAY!”
She threw it. The skeleton leapt from the sill, Scooped up the ring and clattered downhill, Fainter... and fainter... Then all was still.
★★★★Salem was one of our rescues, a very special cat who had a sixth sense I'm sure.★★★★
ORIGINAL PAINTING ON SALE HERE:
A Ghost's garden at midnight: unkept, purposely, for a garden planted by human, supernatural, the birds and the bees was the best garden to have. Its wild beauty was unmatched by any other properly maintained garden specimen. Florence loved it that way, and so did his visitors who came.
On hot summer nights, Florence's favorite thing to do was to stroll barefoot in the garden and breathe in the flower's sweet perfume. Every once in a while, clover magically appears between his toes. Florence was amused by how the clover always wanted to dress his feet.
Yes, this could be my house and mine, said my husband when he looked at my painting this morning. It's still a WIP. I need to finish painting the grass along the path, maybe a couple of doves on the roof and a cat, just like Robert Louis Stevenson wrote about in the poem "My House, I Say."
The Forget- Me- Nots and Tansy are flowers we collected on our trip down east. THE INN AT WHALE COVE COTTAGES, GRAND MANAN ISLAND, NEW BRUNSWICK is a place that will always be dear to me and M. We had such a great time there and, Laura, the Inn Keeper at Whale Cove Cottages, made it extra special for us. This painting, inspired by that special place we stayed at one cold October month in 2017. One day, we shall go back!
MY HOUSE, I SAY
~ ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON 1850-1894
"My house, I say. But hark to the sunny doves
That make my roof the arena of their loves,
That gyre about the gable all day long
And fill the chimneys with their murmurous song:
Our house, they say; and mine, the cat declares
And spreads his golden fleece upon the chairs;
And mine the dog, and rises stiff with wrath
If any alien foot profane the path.
So, too, the buck that trimmed my terraces,
Our whilom gardener, called the garden his;
Who now, deposed, surveys my plain abode
And his late kingdom, only from the road."
