Laylock
five o’clock
knit. love.
warm & elegant
knitting in the sun
working with your hands
time to relax & knit with a sunny (s)pot of tea...
chicks or chocolate?
In Shadow Out in the late amber afternoon, confused among chrysanthmums, her parasol, a pale balloon, like a waiting moon, in shadow swims. Her furtive lace and misty hair over the garden dial distill the sunlight, – then withdrawing, wear again the shadows at her will. Gently yet suddenly, the sheen of stars inwraps her parasol. She hears my step behind the green twilight, stiller than shadows, fall. "Come, it is too late, – too late to risk alone the light's decline: Nor has the evening long to wait, " but her own words are night's and mine. —Hart Crane
The parasol is the umbrella’s daughter, And associates with a fan While her father abuts the tempest And abridges the rain. The former assists a siren In her serene display; But her father is borne and honored, And borrowed to this day. - Emily Dickinson