“And all about the large lime feathers low, / The lime a summer home of murmurous wings.”

[larryhammer]

For Poetry Monday:

Nothing Gold Can Stay, Robert Frost

Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

Subject quote from The Gardener's Daughter; or, the Pictures, Alfred the Tennyson.