RELUCTANCE
Out through the fields and the woods
And over the walls I have wended;
I have climbed the hills of view
And looked at the world, and descended;
I have come by the highway home,
And lo, it is ended.
The leaves are all dead on the ground,
Save those that the oak is keeping
To ravel them one by one
And let them go scraping and creeping
Out over the crusted snow,
When others are sleeping.
And the dead leaves lie huddled and still,
No longer blown hither and thither;
The last lone aster is gone;
The flowers of the witch hazel wither;
The heart is still aching to seek,
But the feet question "Whither?"
Ah, when to the heart of man
Was it ever less than a treason
To go with the drift of things,
To yield with a grace to reason,
And bow and accept the end
Of a love or a season?
Robert Frost
Monday, May 23, 2011
we love the things we love for what they are...
HYLA BROOKE by Robert Frost
By June our brook's run out of song and speed.
Sought for much after that, it will be found
Either to have gone groping underground
(And taken with it all the Hyla breed
That shouted in the mist a month ago,
Like ghost of sleigh bells in a ghost of snow)--
Or flourished and come up in jewelweed,
Weak foliage that is blown upon and bent,
Even against the way its waters went.
Its bed is left a faded paper sheet
Of dead leaves stuck together by the heat--
A brook to none but who remember long.
This as it will be seen is other far
Than with brooks taken otherwhere in song.
We love the things we love for what they are.
I'm working on a collection of 20 poem's for a children's literature class i'm taking, and this is one I really enjoyed, but didn't make the cut. I love the words, jewelweed, otherwhere, groping underground. lovely!
By June our brook's run out of song and speed.
Sought for much after that, it will be found
Either to have gone groping underground
(And taken with it all the Hyla breed
That shouted in the mist a month ago,
Like ghost of sleigh bells in a ghost of snow)--
Or flourished and come up in jewelweed,
Weak foliage that is blown upon and bent,
Even against the way its waters went.
Its bed is left a faded paper sheet
Of dead leaves stuck together by the heat--
A brook to none but who remember long.
This as it will be seen is other far
Than with brooks taken otherwhere in song.
We love the things we love for what they are.
I'm working on a collection of 20 poem's for a children's literature class i'm taking, and this is one I really enjoyed, but didn't make the cut. I love the words, jewelweed, otherwhere, groping underground. lovely!
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
We had the most wonderful trip with good friends both old and new. We spent a week on a Caribbean Celebrity cruise without any kids! It was pure luxury, white sandy beaches each day, fine dining at night & tons of uninterrupted time to catch up and have fun with each other.
Wednesday, May 04, 2011
Personal Blog
Sorry for the confusing switch to private and then back again.
Jim and I decided to start a personal blog so that I can post pictures and stories of Tessa to my heart's content, without worrying about who's looking at these pictures and stories. While we were on our trip our friends told us about the awesome albums they make each year of their personal blog, which are more like journals.
This blog isn't going anywhere (I love having a place to keep track of my favorite things) but it'll have less personal stories and family pictures so if you want an invite to my personal blog send me an email or comment!
Jim and I decided to start a personal blog so that I can post pictures and stories of Tessa to my heart's content, without worrying about who's looking at these pictures and stories. While we were on our trip our friends told us about the awesome albums they make each year of their personal blog, which are more like journals.
This blog isn't going anywhere (I love having a place to keep track of my favorite things) but it'll have less personal stories and family pictures so if you want an invite to my personal blog send me an email or comment!
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