Undergrowth with a Couple, Van Gogh, June 1890
After drinking waaaaayyyyyy too much vodka last night I am slowly coming back to the land of the living. I'm thinking about doing some writing this weekend and doing some course work as I have to hand up my folder the last week in July. I need to put in some serious effort with it now. The module I'm currently working on is called Early Childhood Programmes. I'm also considering re-watching Vicky, Cristina, Barcelona. I cooked some chicken balti earlier but I don't want rice with it so I've to go to the shop for pasta!
So secrets, should you keep them or are they there to be told? Isn't it true that where the dark is the light wants to run in? Or should some secrets always be kept?
The Way Through the Woods
THEY shut the road through the woodsSeventy years ago.
Weather and rain have undone it again,
And now you would never know
There was once a road through the woods
Before they planted the trees.
It is underneath the coppice and heath,
And the thin anemones.
Only the keeper sees
That, where the ring-dove broods,
And the badgers roll at ease,
There was once a road through the woods.
Yet, if you enter the woods
Of a summer evening late,
When the night-air cools on the trout-ringed pools
Where the otter whistles his mate,
(They fear not men in the woods,
Because they see so few.)
You will hear the beat of a horse's feet,
And the swish of a skirt in the dew,
Steadily cantering through
The misty solitudes,
As though they perfectly knew
The old lost road through the woods.
But there is no road through the woods.