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34

Garland for Queens, may be—
Laurels—for rare degree
Of soul or sword.
Ah—but remembering me—
Ah—but remembering thee—
Nature in chivalry—
Nature in charity—
Nature in equity—
This Rose ordained!
There was an Old Man of Kilkenny,
Who never had more than a penny;
He spent all that money,
In onions and honey,
That wayward Old Man of Kilkenny.
She told him she wanted the moon... So he helped her build a ladder tall enough so she could reach it on her own...
It was her goal, not his to take.
He was her support, not her knight in shinning armor...
She wanted to fight her own battles... he already knew she'd win them all.
Sound the deep waters:--
  Who shall sound that deep?--
Too short the plummet,
  And the watchmen sleep.
Some dream of effort
  Up a toilsome steep;
Some dream of pasture grounds
  For harmless sheep.

White shapes flit to and fro
  From mast to mast;
They feel the distant tempest
  That nears them fast:
Great rocks are straight ahead,
  Great shoals not past;
They shout to one another
  Upon the blast.

O, soft the streams drop music
  Between the hills,
And musical the birds' nests
  Beside those rills:
The nests are types of home
   Love-hidden from ills,
The nests are types of spirits
  Love-music fills.

So dream the sleepers,
  Each man in his place;
The lightning shows the smile
  Upon each face:
The ship is driving, driving,
  It drives apace:
And sleepers smile, and spirits
  Bewail their case.

The lightning glares and reddens
  Across the skies;
It seems but sunset
  To those sleeping eyes.
When did the sun go down
  On such a wise?
From such a sunset
  When shall day arise?

"Wake," call the spirits:
  But to heedless ears;
They have forgotten sorrows
  And hopes and fears;
They have forgotten perils
  And smiles and tears;
Their dream has held them long,
  Long years and years.

"Wake," call the spirits again:
  But it would take
A louder summons
  To bid them awake.
Some dream of pleasure
  For another's sake;
Some dream, forgetful
  Of a lifelong ache.

One by one slowly,
  Ah, how sad and slow!
Wailing and praying
  The spirits rise and go:
Clear stainless spirits,
  White,--as white as snow;
Pale spirits, wailing
  For an overthrow.

One by one flitting,
  Like a mournful bird
Whose song is tired at last
  For no mate heard.
The loving voice is silent,
  The useless word;
One by one flitting,
  Sick with hope deferred.

Driving and driving,
  The ship drives amain:
While swift from mast to mast
  Shapes flit again,
Flit silent as the silence
  Where men lie slain;
Their shadow cast upon the sails
  Is like a stain.

No voice to call the sleepers,
  No hand to raise:
They sleep to death in dreaming
  Of length of days.
Vanity of vanities,
  The Preacher says:
Vanity is the end
  Of all their ways.
It's been a million miles
Hundreds of long nights
And now we've crossed the desert
We have beat the devil, at his game
It's time for us to be us
Uninhibited and insane and free
a
rainbow
came into view
as the hikers
trudged the high hill
its colors were dazzling
they stood for many a minute
marveling at its bright palette
no handsome *** of gold could be seen
but nature had provided a grand scene
 Aug 2016 Claire Marie
Sjr1000
She doesn't know what to do
She can't get out of this room
She sits in her chair
watching the morning dew

No appetite

Words don't work
They won't even sway her
Her mind is somewhere else
I know maybe
she's thinking about you

There are so many clichés
one can say

All you can do is hug her
tell her
"Baby it's gonna be okay "

That's all you can do
when
baby's got the blues.
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