Monday, November 26, 2007

Samson And Delilah

Samson And Delilah
seated nude
Spring Breeze
Sweet Nothings
What he looked he felt. He was in the agricultural world, but not of it. He served fire and smoke; these denizens of the fields served vegetation, weather, frost, and sun. He travelled with his engine from farm to farm, from county to county, for as yet the steam threshing-machine was itinerant in this part of Wessex. He spoke in a strange northern accent; his thoughts being turned inwards upon himself, his eye on his iron charge, hardly perceiving the scenes around him, and caring for them not at all: holding only strictly necessary intercourse with the natives, as if some ancient doom compelled him to wander here against his will in the service of his Plutonic master. The long strap which ran from the driving-wheel of his engine to the red thresher under the rick was the sole tie-line between agriculture and him.

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

Samson And Delilah"

Anonymous said...

Samson And Delilah"

Anonymous said...

"Samson And Delilah"

Anonymous said...

"Samson And Delilah"

Anonymous said...

"Samson And Delilah"