Yesterday I sat in the garden, nibbled on home-made Swiss nut cake, and read poetry out aloud by one of my favourite artist/painter Egon Schiele.
Egon Schiele had a very short life and whilst some are not particularly keen on his artworks I must confess that I am drawn to the painful oddness that punctuates his work. Below, a poem by Egon Schiele, called White Swan. I adore swans. They are so graceful, too.
Over the moss-scented black-bordered park lane
Glides amidst the rainbow-hued spume
The high, calm, round swan.
Images: At the estate, Flowers from my garden, Home-made Swiss nut cake, Egon Schiele Poems and letters from 1910 - 1912