Happy Friday!
I hope everyone has had a good week and that you all have good plans for the weekend.
My chosen poem this week is by Christina Rossetti’s brother Dante Gabriel Rossetti.
The Woodspurge The wind flapped loose, the wind was still, Shaken out dead from tree and hill: I had walked on at the wind's will, - I sat now, for the wind was still. Between my knees my forehead was, - My lips, drawn in, said not Alas! My hair was over in the grass, My naked ears heard the day pass. My eyes, wide open, had the run Of some ten weeds to fix upon; Among those few, out of the sun, The woodspurge flowered, three cups in one. From perfect grief there need not be Wisdom or even memory: One thing then learnt remains to me, - The woodspurge has a cup of three. Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Happy Reading

Isn’t he supposed to have dug up Lizzie Siddal to retrieve some of his pies he buried with her?
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I think you mean poems dear sister but yes he had her dug up. It was 7 years after her death so couldn’t have been very nice.
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Ooooops predictive text! Pies wouldn’t be much good after 7 years 😝
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