Blow, Blow, Thou Winter Wind- By: William Shakespeare

Blow, blow, thou winter wind
Thou art not so unkind
As man’s ingratitude;
Thy tooth is not so keen,
Because thou art not seen,
Although thy breath be rude.

Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly:
Most freindship if feigning, most loving mere folly:
Then heigh-ho, the holly!
This life is most jolly.

Freeze, freeze thou bitter sky,
That does not bite so nigh
As benefits forgot:
Though thou the waters warp,
Thy sting is not so sharp
As a friend remembered not.
Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly:
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly:
Then heigh-ho, the holly!
This life is most jolly.

~*~Nothing Gold Can Stay ~*~ by: Robert Lee Frost

Nature’s first green is gold,

Her hardest hue to hold.

Her early leaf’s a flower;

But only so an hour.

Then leaf subsides to leaf.

So Eden sank to grief,

So dawn goes down to day.

Nothing gold can stay.

***

Jyoti Arora
Author of Dream’s Sake, Samsung Mobiler

www.jyotiarora.com

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~*~ Grace ~*~ BY: – SVEIN MYRENG

There is a stillness

simpler than silence

a peace deeper

than calm.

There is a shimmering

in the dark soil,

shades of trees,

in old moss, and the twisted

forms of branches,

that hold us, carry us

and nurture us.

In the flash of the eye,

laughter, or a tear.

No effort needed, no self to seek,

just grace remains.

I Remember, I Remember, By: Thomas Hood

I remember, I remember

The house where I was born,

The little window where the sun

Came peeping in at morn;

He never came a wink too soon

Nor brought too long a day;

But now, I often wish the night

Had borne my breath away.

I remember, I remember

The roses, red and white,

The violets, and the lily-cups—

Those flowers made of light!

The lilacs where the robin built,

And where my brother set

The laburnum on his birthday,—

The tree is living yet!

I remember, I remember

Where I was used to swing,

And thought the air must rush as fresh

To swallows on the wing;

My spirit flew in feathers then

That is so heavy now,

And summer pools could hardly cool

The fever on my brow.

I remember, I remember

The fir-trees dark and high;

I used to think their slender tops

Were close against the sky:

It was a childish ignorance,

But now ’tis little joy

To know I’m farther off from Heaven

Than when I was a boy.

***

Jyoti Arora
Author of Dream’s Sake, Samsung Mobiler

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I Am Wild, By: Sarah Teasdale

I am wild, I will sing to the trees,

I will sing to the stars in the sky,

I love, I am loved, he is mine,

Now at last I can die!

I am sandaled with wind and with flame,

I have heart-fire and singing to give,

I can tread on the grass or the stars,

Now at last I can live!

***

Dream’s Sake

Colours Of The Wind, By: -Vanessa Williams

You think you own whatever land you land on

The earth is just a dead thing you can claim

But I know every rock and tree and creature

Has a life, has a spirit, has a name

You think the only people who are people

Are the people who look and think like you

But if you walk the footsteps of a stranger

You’ll learn things you never knew, never knew

Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon

Or asked the grinning bobcat why he grinned

Can you sing with all the voices of the mountains

Can you paint with all the colours of the wind

Can you paint with all the colours of the wind

Come run the hidden pine trails of the forest

Come taste the sunsweet berries of the earth

Come roll in all the riches all around you

And for once, never wonder what they’re worth

The rainstorm and the river are my brothers

The heron and the otter are my friends

And we are all connected to each other

In a circle, in a hoop that never ends

Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon

Or let the eagle tell you where he’s been

Can you sing with all the voices of the mountains

Can you paint with all the colours of the wind

Can you paint with all the colours of the wind

How high does the sycamore grow

If you cut it down, then you’ll never know

And you’ll never hear the wolf cry the blue corn moon

For whatever we are white or copper skinned

We need to sing with all the voices of the mountains

We need to paint with all the colors of the wind

You can own the Earth and still

All you’ll own is earth until

You can paint with all the colours of the wind…

***

Dream’s Sake

Nature, By: – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

As a fond mother, when the day is o’er,

 Leads by the hand her little child to bed,

Half willing, half reluctant to be led,

And leave his broken playthings on the floor,

Still gazing at them through the open door,

Nor wholly reassured and comforted

By promises of others in their stead,

Which, though more splendid, may not please him more;

So Nature deals with us, and takes away

Our playthings one by one, and by the hand

Leads us to rest so gently, that we go

Scarce knowing if we wish to go or stay,

Being too full of sleep to understand

How far the unknown transcends the what we know.

***

Dream’s Sake

Trees, By: Sergeant Joyce Kilmer

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.

***

Dream’s Sake

 

 

 

There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,: Lord Byron, (George Gordon)

There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,

There is a rapture on the lonely shore,

There is society, where none intrudes,

By the deep sea, and music in its roar:

I love not man the less, but Nature more,

From these our interviews, in which I steal

From all I may be, or have been before,

To mingle with the Universe, and feel

What I can ne’er express, yet cannot all conceal.

***

Dream’s Sake