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Where The Wild Raspberries Grow
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Where The Wild Raspberries Grow by Meg Lewer

My Ghost house has smoke coming from the chimney so someone must be home…….

“I dwell in a lonely house I know
That vanished many a summer ago,
And left no trace but the cellar walls,
And a cellar in which the daylight falls
And the purple-stemmed wild raspberries grow.

O’er ruined fences the grape-vines shield
The woods come back to the mowing field;
The orchard tree has grown one copse
Of new wood and old where the woodpecker chops;
The footpath down to the well is healed.

I dwell with a strangely aching heart
In that vanished abode there far apart
On that disused and forgotten road
That has no dust-bath now for the toad.
Night comes; the black bats tumble and dart;

It is under the small, dim, summer star.
I know not who these mute folk are
Who share the unlit place with me—
Those stones out under the low-limbed tree
Doubtless bear names that the mosses mar.

They are tireless folk, but slow and sad—
Though two, close-keeping, are lass and lad,—
With none among them that ever sings,
And yet, in view of how many things,
As sweet companions as might be had.”
Robert Frost ; Ghost House 1897

Original mixed media landscape on board.
Comes professionally framed and ready to hang.
Framing adds 20cm to size.

Where The Wild Raspberries Grow

Meg Lewer

Original price was: AUD$1,530.Current price is: AUD$1,377.
Size: 45w x 60h x 1d cms
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Ready to hang

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Additional Information

Where The Wild Raspberries Grow by Meg Lewer

My Ghost house has smoke coming from the chimney so someone must be home…….

“I dwell in a lonely house I know
That vanished many a summer ago,
And left no trace but the cellar walls,
And a cellar in which the daylight falls
And the purple-stemmed wild raspberries grow.

O’er ruined fences the grape-vines shield
The woods come back to the mowing field;
The orchard tree has grown one copse
Of new wood and old where the woodpecker chops;
The footpath down to the well is healed.

I dwell with a strangely aching heart
In that vanished abode there far apart
On that disused and forgotten road
That has no dust-bath now for the toad.
Night comes; the black bats tumble and dart;

It is under the small, dim, summer star.
I know not who these mute folk are
Who share the unlit place with me—
Those stones out under the low-limbed tree
Doubtless bear names that the mosses mar.

They are tireless folk, but slow and sad—
Though two, close-keeping, are lass and lad,—
With none among them that ever sings,
And yet, in view of how many things,
As sweet companions as might be had.”
Robert Frost ; Ghost House 1897

Original mixed media landscape on board.
Comes professionally framed and ready to hang.
Framing adds 20cm to size.

...View all Artworks by Meg Lewer

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