For me the diamond dawns are set
In rings of beauty,
And all my ways are dewy wet
With pleasant duty.
~John Townsend Trowbridge
Sunday, January 03, 2010
Hard At Work
Saturday, January 02, 2010
A New Beginning Together
And ye, who have met with Adversity's blast,
And been bow'd to the earth by its fury;
To whom the Twelve Months, that have recently pass'd
Were as harsh as a prejudiced jury -
Still, fill to the Future! and join in our chime,
The regrets of remembrance to cozen,
And having obtained a New Trial of Time,
Shout in hopes of a kindlier dozen.
~Thomas Hood
Happy New Year, Everyone!
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Saturday, February 14, 2009
A Touch Of Love
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Playtime
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
New Beginnings in the New World
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Here's to new beginnings
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
Brilliant Blues
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
Blazing Skies
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Trees
I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.
~Joyce Kilmer, "Trees," 1914
Saturday, November 10, 2007
Places
Sunday, October 21, 2007
Reflections
Friday, October 12, 2007
Light
Monday, September 03, 2007
A piece of the sky
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Serenity
Sunday, July 15, 2007
Dream on
Thursday, June 07, 2007
A thing of beauty
A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o'er-darkened ways
Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon,
Trees old, and young, sprouting a shady boon
For simple sheep; and such are daffodils
With the green world they live in; and clear rills
That for themselves a cooling covert make
'Gainst the hot season; the mid-forest brake,
Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms:
And such too is the grandeur of the dooms
We have imagined for the mighty dead;
All lovely tales that we have heard or read:
An endless fountain of immortal drink,
Pouring unto us from the heaven's brink.
~John Keats, Endymion