Home is an ancient olive grove
Where pots pile high to age under a harsh Cretan sun.
Some sit upright as if silently guarding the island’s labyrinth
Whilst others lie exhausted like flies after the rains
Discarded like old toys
Tossed on a heap. Forgotten.
Refined shaped clay.
Fired baked earth.
A treasury of terracotta.
© 2013 Francesca Muir
You are awaking pleasant old memories to me Francesca...
ReplyDeleteThank you..!!
Costas
Looks like heaven to me. I love piles and stacks.
ReplyDeleteSending a big hug, Francesca!
Oh my! On this gray Monday morning I was wishing I was in Crete and then I found your post -- for a brief times, I WAS in Crete. Thanks you!
ReplyDeleteI would love to have one of those terracotta pots - they are lovely.
ReplyDeletewow, that is quite a collection, I would love some of those lovely pots!
ReplyDeletethey can come and guard my garden anytime x
ReplyDeleteciao lisa
I wonder if Thrapsano still exists? A visit is a must if it is to explore once again those stunning pots. Love.
ReplyDelete