To The End Of Winter

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Spring Quiet

 

 

Gone were but the Winter,
Come were but the Spring,
I would go to a covert
Where the birds sing.

Where in the whitethom
Singeth a thrush,
And a robin sings
In the holly-bush.

 

Full of fresh scents
Are the budding boughs
Arching high over
A cool green house:

Full of sweet scents,
And whispering air
Which sayeth softly:
"We spread no snare;

"Here dwell in safety,
Here dwell alone,
With a clear stream
And a mossy stone.

Here the sun shineth
Most shadily;
Here is heard an echo
Of the far sea,
Though far off it be."

by Christina Rossetti, via 1

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Outfit:

 

Vintage fur cape: made by granny Kiki for Kiki Couture in the 30s/40s

 

Red dress: bought in a charity shop, originally from Whistles

 

Red cloche hat: bought in the sale from Village Hats (www.hatsandcaps.co.uk)

 

Vintage patent mary jane shoes: granny Kiki's in the 30s

 

 

Vintage gold heart locket: An heirloom handed down through the generations.

As a child, I placed those photographs of the two of us in the locket after my dear mum gave it to me.

 

 

Beaded handbag: a gift from my aunt and uncle years ago.

 

 

The Soundtrack

Paul Weller: Wild Wood

 

All photographs taken by me, self portraits using the self timer on my cheap digital camera.

 

 

 

 I'm delighted to be a part of Visible Monday, hosted by the lovely Patti from www.notdeadyetstyle.blogspot.co.uk, click on the website link to see her outfit and those of many others.