The Old stone bridge, a Poem by, Tony Mitton
The old stone bridge
By, Tony Mitton
The old stone bridge
is where folk stood to talk,
watching the water go under,
hearing its fluent music
gather their words
to carry notions, ruminations, gossip
away in a silver wrapping
of rippled sound.
Sometimes, too, the women would come,
down the stone steps to the brookside
to launder the linen, the clothes.
And again, all the soil,
the sweat and the swear of life,
would be washed in that water,
rolled in that bundle
of tinkling, tumbling sound,
to be carried down,
out of sight and of mind,
rinsed by the workings of water.
Such wonderful shots, Nigel.
I love the bendy depth of field on that second one one. ๐
March 16, 2015 at 4:53 pm
thank you Sharon ๐ ๐
March 16, 2015 at 6:33 pm
These two shots are perfect in B&W – wonderful distance and depth. The water in the second almost looks as smooth as glass.
March 17, 2015 at 2:53 am
Hello Mary ๐ ๐
Thank you , I really enjoyed getting these so am very pleased you enjoyed ๐ ๐
March 17, 2015 at 11:31 am