Posted on 08/28/2005 2:26:23 AM PDT by Soaring Feather
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This one is very nice with a stunning graphic, that perfectly compliments the poem.
Thank you . . . that's almost the view I'm seeing out of my window right now, except where the new moon is, is another large star.
Thank you.
How fortunate you are to see the stars. I live in the city and about the only time I can see stars is in the winter.
I live in the country about halfway between two large cities . . . but, unfortunately we're filling up fast . . . so, I'll enjoy the night sky while I can . . . sigh!!!
A KNIGHT ther was, and that a worthy man,
That fro the tyme that he first bigan
To riden out, he loved chivalrie,
Trouthe and honour, fredom and curteisie.
Ful worthy was he in his lordes werre,
And therto hadde he riden, no man ferre,
As wel in cristendom as in hethenesse,
And evere honoured for his worthynesse.
At Alisaundre he was whan it was wonne.
Ful ofte tyme he hadde the bord bigonne
Aboven alle nacions in Pruce;
In Lettow hadde he reysed and in Ruce,
No cristen man so ofte of his degree.
In Gernade at the seege eek hadde he be
Of Algezir, and riden in Belmarye.
At Lyeys was he and at Satalye,
Whan they were wonne; and in the Grete See
At many a noble armee hadde he be.
At mortal batailles hadde he been fiftene,
And foughten for oure feith at Tramyssene
In lystes thries, and ay slayn his foo.
This ilke worthy knyght hadde been also
Somtyme with the lord of Palatye
Agayn another hethen in Turkye.
And everemoore he hadde a sovereyn prys;
And though that he were worthy, he was wys,
And of his port as meeke as is a mayde.
He nevere yet no vileynye ne sayde
In al his lyf unto no maner wight.
He was a verray, parfit gentil knyght.
But, for to tellen yow of his array,
His hors were goode, but he was nat gay.
Of fustian he wered a gypon
Al bismotered with his habergeon,
For he was late ycome from his viage,
And wente for to doon his pilgrymage.
Geoffrey Chaucer
Goodnight Miss Feather . . . has our White Knight been missing for a while?
See you tomorrow everyone.
WOW wonderful poem, Hope. Thanks so much.
Yes, it's been awhile,
I'm sure our white knight
has his hands full now.
The Lair's doors are opened wide
and waiting for his stroll in from the counrty side.
Rest ye well, poet fair....
the morrow brings, new hope with flair.
Brother hawk
Circling a rose-red morning sky,
hungry, it swiftly wings off,
only to lay in wait high aloft,
a small black harmless silhouette,
the hungry hunter on the stalk.
Even as the dawn wind softly talks,
few hear the warning it does set,
for the hunter wings down so soft,
to strike, and now the preys belly his trough,
his lives when another so careless dies.
Eyes gleam in the morning light this try,
patient hunter of the desert sky none scoff,
for in time he will succeed more then oft,
Brother Hawk, sky hunter and threat,
I watch him, my guide, as off he flies.
Mortal Windows
BRAVO!! FABULOUS!!
Brother hawk
Excellent poem Johnn. WOW I could feel the talons sinking deep into the gut of the prey.
The next world is ours forever...
Thank you, Lord.
Good morning, La Enchiladita!!
Hope today all is well. Sure sounds that way.;)
shots ring out
chorus from the Gulf
dark despair.
rim 9/1/05
Evening Hope, so very true. Such a shame that greed takes over.
Gigg's=Barry Gibb's sheesh...So sorry Barry.
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