Moon Night

“Moon Night” Watercolour

“Is the night chilly and dark?

The night is chilly, but not dark.

The thin grey cloud is spread on high,

It covers but not hides the sky.

The moon is behind, and at the full

The night is chill, the cloud is grey:

Tis a month, a month of Christmas,

And  Summer comes slowly down this way…”

After a poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge


A Dinner Of Herbs

“Are you going to Scarborough Fair?

Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme;

Remember me to one, who lives there,

For he once was a true love of mine…”

With green mint, cool parsley,  sweet basil, and sunny thyme made a perfect dinner of herbs added with refreshing coriander and common chives, all from the garden herbs box you built for me on the deck.

“…Where I may sit and rightly spell. Of every star that heaven doth show, and every herb that sips the dew. Till old experience do attain, to something like prophetic strain…”

A cracker of herbs

Parsley that you can smell with your heart and rosemary for remembrance of you and of love, while sage gives me the wisdom and courage to change the things I can. And thyme! O thyme of sweet aroma, for my cup of tea.

A bouquet of herbs
A soup of herbs


Acrylic on canvas

“…And dreams in their development have breath

And tears, tortures and the touch of joy

They leave a weight upon our waking thoughts

They take the weight from off waking toils

They do divide our being; they become

A portion of ourselves as of our time

And look like heralds of eternity…”

(From a poem by Lord Byron)

Earth, Sky And Ocean…

This painting was inspired by Shelley’s poem that we read together. I used the aboriginal art creating a story of love separated by heaven and earth between oceans, rivers… and never the twain shall meet.

Acrylic on canvas by Thai Peck

“The fountains mingle with the river 

   And the rivers with the ocean, 

The winds of heaven mix for ever 

   With a sweet emotion; 

Nothing in the world is single; 

   All things by a law divine 

In one spirit meet and mingle. 

   Why not I with thine?

See the mountains kiss high heaven 

   And the waves clasp one another; 

No sister-flower would be forgiven 

   If it disdained its brother; 

And the sunlight clasps the earth 

   And the moonbeams kiss the sea: 

What is all this sweet work worth 

   If thou kiss not me? “

Hymn To Beauty

“Along the riverbank”

“… Like hues and harmonies of evening

Like clouds in starlight widely spread

Like memory of music fled

Like aught that for its grace may be

Dear, and yet dearer for its mystery…

… The day becomes more solemn and serene

When noon is past there is harmony

In autumn, and a lustre in its sky

Which through summer is not heard or seen

As if it could be, as if it had not been…

I was not heard I saw them not

When musing deeply on the lot

Of life, at that sweet time when winds are wooing

All vital things that wake to bring

News of birds and blossoming

Sudden, thy shadow fell on me…”

From a poem by P.B.Shelley

Evening Walk

How I love the silence of the evening sky. Across the bay, clouds gathering throwing clear reflection over the calm water below, waiting for the sun to set. Behind, the moon is about to rise. All of a sudden, a beautiful creature appeared, he was out also on his walk waiting for the moon?

I turned from one look at the moon and he was gone.

At Sunset

To-night the west o’er-brims with warmest dyes; 
Its chalice overflows 
With pools of purple colouring the skies, 
Aflood with gold and rose; 
And some hot soul seems throbbing close to mine, 
As sinks the sun within that world of wine.

And twilight comes with grey and restful eyes,
As ashes follow flame.
But O! I heard a voice from those rich skies
Call tenderly my name;
It was as if some priestly fingers stole
In benedictions o’er my lonely soul.

From a poem by Pauline Johnson

Sunset on Chelsea beach

Echo Of A Dream

“… Come to me in the silence of a dream; bright as sunlight on a stream. Come back in tears. Oh! Memory, hope, love of finished years…

Dream, how sweet! Come to me in dreams, that I may live again. Come to me in dreams that I may give… love, oh love of long ago…”

from a poem by Christina Rossetti

“A beautiful day visiting Connemara, Ireland”