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The Dragonflies' Lair~Thread XXXII~
The Muse and Poets of The Lair
| December 1, 2006
| Soaring Feather
Posted on 12/01/2006 8:08:18 PM PST by Soaring Feather
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To: WayzataJOHNN; Lady Jag; starbase; WL Mantis; HopeandGlory; EsmeraldaA; tomkow6; Kathy in Alaska; ...
New Thread Ping!
2
posted on
12/01/2006 8:13:10 PM PST
by
Soaring Feather
(I Soar, cause I can....)
To: All
Happy Holidays!
3
posted on
12/01/2006 8:19:57 PM PST
by
Soaring Feather
(I Soar, cause I can....)
To: All
Dream-Pedlary
by Thomas Lovell Beddoes
If there were dreams to sell,
What would you buy?
Some cost a passing bell;
Some a light sigh,
That shakes from Life's fresh crown
Only a rose-leaf down.
If there were dreams to sell,
Merry and sad to tell,
And the crier rang the bell,
What would you buy?
A cottage lone and still,
With bowers nigh,
Shadowy, my woes to still,
Until I die.
Such pearls from Life's fresh crown
Fain would I shake me down.
Were dreams to have at will,
This would best heal my ill,
This would I buy.
But there were dreams to sell
Ill didst thou buy;
Life is a dream, they tell,
Waking, to die.
Dreaming a dream to prize,
Is wishing ghosts to rise;
And if I had the spell
To call the buried well,
Which one should I?
If there are ghosts to raise,
What shall I call,
Out of hell's murky haze,
Heaven's blue pall?
Raise my loved long-lost boy,
To lead me to his joy.--
There are no ghosts to raise;
Out of death lead no ways;
Vain is the call.
Know'st thou not ghosts to sue,
No love thou hast.
Else lie, as I will do,
And breathe thy last.
So out of Life's fresh crown
Fall like a rose-leaf down.
Thus are the ghosts to woo;
Thus are all dreams made true,
Ever to last!
4
posted on
12/01/2006 8:22:45 PM PST
by
Soaring Feather
(I Soar, cause I can....)
To: WVJudyInJupiter; Lady Jag; WayzataJOHNN; WL Mantis; Kathy in Alaska; EsmeraldaA; ...
Good morning everyone.
5
posted on
12/02/2006 7:19:29 AM PST
by
Soaring Feather
(I Soar, cause I can....)
To: Soaring Feather; WVJudyInJupiter; WayzataJOHNN; WL Mantis; Kathy in Alaska; EsmeraldaA
6
posted on
12/02/2006 9:38:33 AM PST
by
Lady Jag
(Bravery is being the only one who knows you're afraid)
To: Lady Jag
Hello Lady! Wonderful graphic.
Yikes, do we ever have cold temps and winds, no snow. Did you get any of the storm?
7
posted on
12/02/2006 9:43:55 AM PST
by
Soaring Feather
(I Soar, cause I can....)
To: Soaring Feather
It is a strangely sunny day. I don't remember seeing anything like it since last September. The sky is actually blue, can you believe that?
It's 45 out and last night's wind died around lunch time.
We got rain last night. Was that the tail end of the storm you had?
8
posted on
12/02/2006 11:56:51 AM PST
by
Lady Jag
(Bravery is being the only one who knows you're afraid)
To: Soaring Feather
Hi there Soaring Feather. I'm just cruising by here in cyberspace. I should have my new internet set up all done by the 12th, I can't wait. See you later!! :-)
9
posted on
12/02/2006 4:37:10 PM PST
by
starbase
(Understanding Written Propaganda (click "starbase" to learn 22 manipulating tricks!!))
To: starbase
To: Lady Jag
Our storm kinda fizzled, we did have rain and last night the temps dropped 30 degrees. No snow here, yet.
It was cold today, I had to go out to do an errand. I scurried around to get home and in the heat.
It's cold out tonight.
To: Soaring Feather; Lady Jag; starbase
"I had to go out to do an errand. I scurried around to get home and in the heat. It's cold out tonight."
A Path To Home
When I was young and eager,
Some fears seemed very odd.
For others whod grown frail with age,
While confidently I trod.
The world was filled with wonders,
And treasures I could seek.
The fearfulness I saw in them,
Just told me they were weak.
My thirst and hunger led me on,
As elders watched with dread.
I scorned their hesitation,
And boldly did I tread.
I fed my appetites with glee,
Until my sated gaze,
Beheld the fact I stood unarmed,
Where dragons chose to graze.
So caution thus was born inside,
My heart that sought to roam,
And slowly I then backed away,
To find a path to home.
My heart had filled its wanderlust,
My feet had gone their mile.
I slowly traced my way back to,
My welcome domicile.
I spoke with children bright of eye,
Of wonders I had seen,
And saw horizons fill their gaze,
And appetites grow keen.
I now discover how my world,
Has shrunken to a town,
Where someone always helps me up,
Whenever I fall down.
I have a vision now that I,
Who once had sturdy tread,
Will only totter those few steps,
That take me to my bed.
My trip has come full circle,
I stare as some young lad,
Departs to find his way along,
The winding path I had.
NicknamedBob . . . December 2, 2006
12
posted on
12/02/2006 5:09:29 PM PST
by
NicknamedBob
(Some people reach their level of incompetence when doing household chores.)
To: NicknamedBob
Wow, that's a very nice and excellent poem NicknamedBob.
13
posted on
12/02/2006 5:15:24 PM PST
by
starbase
(Understanding Written Propaganda (click "starbase" to learn 22 manipulating tricks!!))
To: starbase
Thank you!
Congratulations on your new internet setup. Enjoy!
14
posted on
12/02/2006 5:19:39 PM PST
by
NicknamedBob
(Some people reach their level of incompetence when doing household chores.)
To: NicknamedBob
Oh my, this is a wonderful poem, as always with your work -it sings. Natural rhythm.
To: Soaring Feather
Then how come I can't dance?
16
posted on
12/02/2006 5:35:03 PM PST
by
NicknamedBob
(Some people reach their level of incompetence when doing household chores.)
To: NicknamedBob
LOL, don't know. Maybe it's cause you have two left feet. ;)
To: Soaring Feather
That's fair enough, I guess.
I have two write hands.
18
posted on
12/02/2006 5:40:43 PM PST
by
NicknamedBob
(Some people reach their level of incompetence when doing household chores.)
To: NicknamedBob
Oh you're a comic, too. ;)
To: Soaring Feather
Chicken Soup
My nephew had a poultry farm! (His stock just numbered two.)
He planned to breed some more of them, but then one got the flu.
Now, Medicine is not his strength, but he worked for the group.
He nursed the sick one back to health. He fed it Chicken Soup!
Thats right, he killed the healthy one, to make the sick one strong.
And you may think this makes no sense, but then you have it wrong.
For business, its crazy, but thats not where he leans.
Hell be a whiz with all the biz of Government Machines!
Where this new math can operate, increases are called cuts,
And taxes are investments. In other words, its Nuts!
My brothers son will fit right in. He thinks that way a lot.
If you call, and you hear strange advice, my nephews who you got!
NicknamedBob . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . April 29, 2005
20
posted on
12/02/2006 5:56:48 PM PST
by
NicknamedBob
(Some people reach their level of incompetence when doing household chores.)
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