wondrousbutstrange

"Hallowe'en in a Suburb" by H.P. Lovecraft The steeples are white in the wild moonlight, And the trees have a silver glare; Past the chimneys high see the vampires fly, And the harpies of upper air, That flutter and laugh and stare. For the village dead to the moon outspread Never shone in the sunset’s gleam, But grew out of the deep that the dead years keep Where the rivers of madness stream Down the gulfs to a pit of dream. A chill wind weaves thro’ the rows of sheaves In the meadows that shimmer pale, And comes to twine where the headstones shine And the ghouls of the churchyard wail For harvests that fly and fail. Not a breath of the strange grey gods of change That tore from the past its own Can quicken this hour, when a spectral pow’r Spreads sleep o’er the cosmic throne And looses the vast unknown. So here again stretch the vale and plain That moons long-forgotten saw, And the dead leap gay in the pallid

I'm back from my trip, and I already miss it. The mist, moss, mountains, rocky coast, fog horns, Marionberry pie...it's an amazing region, and will always have a special place in my heart. As for what else is happening, now that the traveling is over for the time being, I'll be jumping into lots of sewing/needlecraft projects and may not be too active on here. I'll be posting stuff of that sort on my blog(https://antiqueaesthetic.blogspot.com/) and instagram(https://www.instagram.com/mishflora/) if anyone is interested. That's about all for now, back to my coffee :)