Dappled Things

For some reason I woke up this morning with the first line of a poem, Pied Beauty, in my head. It drove me straight to my camera and out the door. This is what ensued:

"Glory be to God for dappled things/

"For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;/

"For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;/

"Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches' wings;/

"Landscapes plotted and pieced--fold, fallow, and plough;/

"And all trades, their gear...

and tackle...

and trim./

"All things counter, original,...

spare, strange;/

"Whatever is fickle,...

freckled (who knows how?)/

"With swift,...

slow,...

sweet,...

sour;...

adazzle,...

dim;/

"He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:/

"Praise Him." --"Pied Beauty," by Gerard Manley Hopkins

I hope your day has poetry in it, too.