[spoken text] ("A slash of blue, the bluebell sways in summer air its blossom’s power to soothe is lost in an air that kills, blowing from those blue remembered hills where spires rise and scarlet patches fade. My restless blood lies a quiver under April twilight on the river, a sweep of gray drifting between some ruby damned shirt hurried on and farms half-swallowed by dusk.") [spoken text] ("A little purple slips unseen into the sky’s slow breathing; it mingles with the bell’s perfume, with the far-off hum of fields, until even grief folds into the softest shade of evening.")