Wednesday, April 15, 2009

The Miller's Tale . . .

The first thing I thought of when seeing this windmill photo for the first time since it was taken 20 years ago was :. . She loves me. . . she loves me not . . . she loves me . . .
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Will the wind still be able to make the mill turn with those missing blades ? Or had it all rusted to a totally frozen mass that would never move again until it falls to the ground ? Are some people like this ? A little the worse for wear, but still standing ? Still braving the wind day in and day out. . .
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And what was that song ??? . . .
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"And so it was that later
As the miller told his tale
That her face, at first just ghostly,
Turned a whiter shade of pale"
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2 comments:

L. said...

Beautiful photos. And I love that song...haven't heard it in years.

Lily Fields said...

She love me...she loves me not....great story....love the thought ...it does remind one of a big flower with missing petals....I can only speak for moi...she loves this blog indeed !