Posted on 01/02/2006 7:52:08 AM PST by Soaring Feather
Along the Way
The old house still empty these long years,
behind dusty written history on the windows.
Filtering memories along fates narrow rows,
ivy-covered silences soft enclosed in tears.
Down the lane far from an ageless nowhere,
it sits in its antebellum estate of disgrace.
Behind broken walls and rusted wrought lace,
as if time stopped and didnt restart or care.
I pass it often, wondering who lived there then,
and what had they been like, were they like me?
Had they wondered about older others or even see,
and did it cross their mind what had ever, ever been?
I love this poem! Thank You.
I have seen so many old abandon houses and thought the same things about them.
Shakespeare's Sonnet #2
When fortie Winters shall beseige thy brow,
And digge deep trenches in thy beauties field,
Thy youthes proud liuery so gaz'd on now,
Wil be a totter'd weed of smal worth held:
Then being askt,where all thy beautie lies,
Where all the treasure of thy lusty daies;
To say within thine owne deepe sunken eyes,
Were an all-eating shame,and thriftless praise.
How much more praise deseru'd thy beauties use,
If thou couldst answere this faire child of mine
Shall sum my count,and make my old excuse
Proouing his beautie by succession thine.
This were to be new made when thou art ould,
And see thy blood warme when thou feel'st it cold.
by William Shakespeare (1564-1616)
Good night Miss Feather and Fellow Lairites . . . see you tomorrow.
I found this little book in an old book shop and its been a great read, the poems are really down to earth and rich in the flavor of the Caribbean. When I'm done, can I send it to you?
Thank You, Hope for the Shakespeare's Sonnet.
I wonder, if our words will be around as long as his have been!! LOL
Oh yes, I would love to read it. How thoughtful of you to think of me.
lol. Sounds like something my mother would have said too.
Influences
The simple question is,
who are my true Muses?
and the answer echoes back,
You, each and every one are!
I like reading hers and his,
some make the mind fuse.
Others, and I pause and go back,
to look again from not so far.
Each has their own light,
and it sets its own mood.
I see something different then,
and I smile in joy at that!
Somehow you get it just right,
pity and bordering on rude.
Or smooth as oiled glass, like Zen,
slim truth, or humor running fat.
You make me think, feel,
and I live larger for it, my thanks, see.
And I try to give of myself, a bit,
hard as that is I try, oh how I try anyway!
Sometimes the words make me reel,
and I shudder at their accuracy in me.
Like arrows of truth that cant help but hit,
or catch you like a mine, so subtle they lay.
Beautiful poem this morning in the Lair.A real gem.
Leaden gray morning,
dust of white snow in driveway -
Better get my coat.
____
Good morning from the land of viral infections that are gettting better!
Glad to hear you are getting over the virus. We have missed you.
It's cold here as well. In the teens with snow on the ground.
Bundle up and stay warm.
Knitting's daily poem on the Daily Oswald Chambers threads are so beautiful ... they will bless others who read them ... do you agree? For example ...
Posted by Knitting A Conundrum to Alamo-Girl
On Religion 01/06/2006 10:02:23 PM PST · 3 of 14
Imagine!
The crowd presses forward,
the sick and the ill
coming for his touch,
to be healed,
cured,
made whole.
Imagine!
the sick at heart
who turned and found
his smile,
his word,
his forgiveness.
Imagine,
the crowd presses forward,
caught up in the moment
calling for his death,
not knowing
they were witnessing
his ultimate gift,
the gift of his life for theirs,
the gift of his salvation,
the gift of his forgiveness.
Imagine!
this poor world pressing forward,
longing for healing,
for peace,
to be made whole,
and now,
how he walks with them,
he smiles with the smiles of those in need,
heals with the touch of those
who are open to him,
His mercy an ocean for those who listen,
His heart big enough to hold the whole world,
waiting to give
the gift of his love,
the gift of his word,
the gift of his forgiveness.
O Lord,
open our hearts
to accept your love,
now and forever.
Amen.
and to continue ...
Posted by Knitting A Conundrum to Alamo-Girl
On Religion 01/08/2006 6:32:18 AM PST · 6 of 15
In our hour of weakness, Lord,
soften our hearts,
pierce through our anger
and tears
and self-righteousness
and guilt
and fear,
that we may lift our eyes
to that hill
where comes our help,
to that place,
where weakened and bleeding
and walking through your own shadow of the valley of death,
you bought life for all of us
who will answer your call.
Lord,
be this day with those of us who are facing
the death of all we have loved,
as we paw through the rubble of our lives
with bleeding hands,
searching in grief and sadness.
Open the doors we need,
and in our unconsolable moment,
hold us tight
in the palm of your hand.
And may those of us this day
blessed not to be suffering under the burden of crisis,
hear your call
to be your hands, and feet, and voice
and respond as you would have us do.
Amen.
Adoration and praise!!!!!!!!!!
Hello CountyLine.
Thanks for bringing Knitting's work over.
bringing old problems
forward is for the foolish
last year is passe
rim© 1/8/05
Evening Hope!
Oh great, so true.
Good evening Miss Feather . . . Whoops that should read 1/8/06 . . . I'm still living in the past . . . ;-)
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