A few years ago Aunt Bertie wrote a lovely piece about the blue hour,, and how much she loved this time of day..I am sorry I didn't save it because the half light and the twilight are my favorite time too, and she described it so perfectly
She called the time by its French name L'Heure Bleue....I was only later aware there was a perfume by the same name..It is an old classic. my favorite sort of smell....Burnsite whom I think has superb taste in ,jewelry,, confided she once wore it
So I decided to buy a bottle because I felt a connection to the name ,and the people that mentioned it..I looked all over the net and found the best price for it from Target, who sells the eau de parfum, but only on line
It came today and I am so pleased I took a chance and bought it...It is a very old time sort of scent, I can smell a tiny whiff of oregano, I think, but it is lovely ,not too sweet nor too heavy..I guess for want of a better word, I will say it is a lady like scent, refined, not overpowering
I am so happy to have discovered it...It makes me feel connected to 2 of our members, so many of our old guard are gone now....but there are new names and personalities that I have come to know and regard as cyber friends
for auld lang syne
| The Children's Hour | |
| by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow |
|
Between the dark and the daylight,
When the night is beginning to lower,
Comes a pause in the day's occupations,
That is known as the Children's Hour.
I hear in the chamber above me
The patter of little feet,
The sound of a door that is opened,
And voices soft and sweet.
From my study I see in the lamplight,
Descending the broad hall stair,
Grave Alice, and laughing Allegra,
And Edith with golden hair.
A whisper, and then a silence:
Yet I know by their merry eyes
They are plotting and planning together
To take me by surprise.
A sudden rush from the stairway,
A sudden raid from the hall!
By three doors left unguarded
They enter my castle wall!
They climb up into my turret
O'er the arms and back of my chair;
If I try to escape, they surround me;
They seem to be everywhere.
They almost devour me with kisses,
Their arms about me entwine,
Till I think of the Bishop of Bingen
In his Mouse-Tower on the Rhine!
Do you think, O blue-eyed banditti,
Because you have scaled the wall,
Such an old mustache as I am
Is not a match for you all!
I have you fast in my fortress,
And will not let you depart,
But put you down into the dungeon
In the round-tower of my heart.
And there will I keep you forever,
Yes, forever and a day,
Till the walls shall crumble to ruin,
And moulder in dust away! |
Blogs & Forums
Forums
Blogs
