Whatever Is Fickle, Freckled

I had planned to get my review of Eat, Pray, Love up today, but I think the surprise sunshine has fried my brain. I’m antsy just sitting in front of a screen. Since it’s too beautiful to do anything other than be outside, I’ll write fast and be on my way.

I’m sharing this poem in honor of spring and my soon-to-appear summer freckles. The diction is delicious, as crisp and sweet as biting into a ripe apple. (Now that I think about it, my selection fits comfortably in the “Pray” section of this week’s theme.) This one is best read aloud, preferably outdoors. Speaking of which, I'm off to bask in the fading daylight. Enjoy!

Pied Beauty

by Gerard Manley Hopkins

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;

   Landscape 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.