That is sweet to say so. Thanks to you too. :)Quote:
Originally Posted by Hes
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That is sweet to say so. Thanks to you too. :)Quote:
Originally Posted by Hes
AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH !!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Satans page must get off it as quick as possible.
It looks like your brain is pretty sharp tonight too my dear. That is great.
Night night FreckleQuote:
Originally Posted by freckle
So glad that you are not damaged in anyway. I was not too far from the wall when I tested my brakes...it was quite funny and only ended up in a grazed leg. Nothing major. Was a few years ago but it has made me think that me and walls don't mix too well! I'm off to bed. Night HHH, night all.xQuote:
Originally Posted by Harry H Howgill
A lightbulb just appeared overhead. Only just twigged. Page 666Quote:
Originally Posted by Herakles
Night Hes, sweet dreams.Quote:
Originally Posted by Hes
Night Hes and Freckle too.
Blue-Butterfly Day
by: Robert Frost (1874-1963)
IT is blue-butterfly day here in spring,
And with these sky-flakes down in flurry on flurry
There is more unmixed color on the wing
Than flowers will show for days unless they hurry.
But these are flowers that fly and all but sing:
And now from having ridden out desire
They lie closed over in the wind and cling
Where wheels have freshly sliced the April mire.
Nice choice, it is one of my favourite Frost poems along with the one about the snow and the crow. I based a print on it.Quote:
Originally Posted by Harry H Howgill
Lovely stuff like a lot.
A little melancholy this selection of mine today.
Neutral Tones
We stood by a pond that winter day,
And the sun was white, as though chidden of God,
And a few leaves lay on the starving sod,
--They had fallen from an ash, and were gray.
Your eyes on me were as eyes that rove
Over tedious riddles solved years ago;
And some words played between us to and fro--
On which lost the more by our love.
The smile on your mouth was the deadest thing
Alive enough to have strength to die;
And a grin of bitterness swept thereby
Like an ominous bird a-wing....
Since then, keen lessons that love deceives,
And wrings with wrong, have shaped to me
Your face, and the God-curst sun, and a tree,
And a pond edged with grayish leaves.
Thomas Hardy
Nice choice THomas Hardy is such a brilliant poet, funny I hadn't until recently even realised that he wrote poetryQuote:
Originally Posted by Alf
it is at moments after I have dreamed by E. E. Cummings
it is at moments after i have dreamed
of the rare entertainment of your eyes,
when(being fool to fancy)i have deemed
with your peculiar mouth my heart made wise;
at moments when the glassy darkness holds
the genuine apparition of your smile
(it was through tears always)and silence moulds
such strangeness as was mine a little while;
moments when my once more illustrious arms
are filled with fascination,when my breast
wears the intolerant brightness of your charms:
one pierced moment whiter than the rest
-turning from the tremendous lie of sleep
i watch the roses of the day grow deep.
Alf, that was lovely. Melancholy indeed but befitting of this rainy grey day. I've just spent the afternoon having my motorbike tinkered with and wish to write a ditty for the brilliant mechanic in Bedale.
My speedo and fuses were bust
and a bike with good lights is a must
so to Dawkins I wended
and the mechanic he mended
while I stood there looking non-plussed
I'm not winning any prizes with that one but I am grateful that he always treats me really well and is so helpful.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Hes
good use of the word wended!....nice one Hes
Some great rhymes there! Did you considered getting any stabilisers fitted! :D
Quote:
Originally Posted by Hes
I know you are a fan of butterflies but hadn't realised you had based a print on this poem. I read a selection of spring poetry this morning and this one just stood out.Quote:
Originally Posted by Hes
Tomorrow I will be wending my way round the Noonstone course. Wending doesn't imply speed to me so that should be about right ;):DQuote:
Originally Posted by freckle
I saw the physio again today and it turns out I've damaged a nerve in my foot which is causing the pins and needles in my heel. Apparently there isn't much fat on the bottom of my heel which normally acts as a shock absorber. So tonight it's chips, choccy and Chardonnay for genuine recouperation purposes! :D
My love is true.
My love is true,
Deep and endless,
It's only for you,
Passions flame,
That never dies,
It's you i want,
To see when i rise,
Because we are one,
Our souls are eternal,
And i can't think of,
Anything more beautiful,
Than forever with you,
My love.
By Herakles.
Cheeky!:D Good idea though.Quote:
Originally Posted by Harry H Howgill
Hello Hes i thought i was alone.
Sounds like a typical night for me...only it's merlot. I've just finished working...23.40! I'm eating baked potato slathered in butter and cheese with three veggie sausages and I reckon they will put plenty of fat on my heels. Hope you get better soon HHH, can you do something about it with insoles?Quote:
Originally Posted by Harry H Howgill
Hi Herakles, nope, I too am burning the midnight oil. I really like your new poetry direction.Quote:
Originally Posted by Herakles
Thank you and have you noticed my status now i have joined the ranks of the Masters Lounge.
Congratulations! Have you checked out the Masters' lounge yet?:)Quote:
Originally Posted by Herakles
Yes i had a musical request granted.
Nice one...I don't think I got further than the nibbles.Quote:
Originally Posted by Herakles
To Sleep
O soft embalmer of the still midnight!
Shutting, with careful fingers and benign,
Our gloom-pleas'd eyes, embower'd from the light,
Enshaded in forgetfulness divine;
O soothest Sleep! if so it please thee, close,
In midst of this thine hymn, my willing eyes.
Or wait the Amen, ere thy poppy throws
Around my bed its lulling charities;
Then save me, or the passed day will shine
Upon my pillow, breeding many woes;
Save me from curious conscience, that still hoards
Its strength for darkness, burrowing like a mole;
Turn the key deftly in the oiled wards,
And seal the hushed casket of my soul.
John Keats
I am off to bed now. Good night.
Sorry I'm late to the party but I really like this :)Quote:
Originally Posted by Chubbs
Blimey Hes, I have to admit I was snoozing by that time. Hope you had a productive evening.Quote:
Originally Posted by Hes
The physio recommended insoles too once I get back to running.
I like veggie sausages, but you got me thinking laterally...
Veggie Sausages:
Shock absorbing properties
Of red Sorbothane.
Aw pet..i'll send you some stotties doon too!...i knew there were some advantages to being slightly on the chubster side!!!!!Quote:
Originally Posted by Harry H Howgill
Keats again :) you spoil us ambassador(Hes) :DQuote:
Originally Posted by Hes
After Noonstone today, a nice hot bath and a few bottles of good ale later its a poem I will embrace most dearly :D
Well there was not much sign of Spring at Noonstone today so while we are waiting for it :rolleyes:
To Spring
O thou with dewy locks, who lookest down
Through the clear windows of the morning, turn
Thine angel eyes upon our western isle,
Which in full choir hails thy approach, O Spring!
The hills tell one another, and the listening
Valleys hear; all our longing eyes are turn’d
Up to thy bright pavilions: issue forth
And let thy holy feet visit our clime!
Come o’er the eastern hills, and let our winds
Kiss thy perfumèd garments; let us taste
Thy morn and evening breath; scatter thy pearls
Upon our lovesick land that mourns for thee.
O deck her forth with thy fair fingers; pour
Thy soft kisses on her bosom; and put
Thy golden crown upon her languish’d head,
Whose modest tresses are bound up for thee.
William Blake
Safe.
Her caress gentle as a breeze,
She opens me up easily,
I can share anything with her,
As i feel her warm breath against my neck,
I feel safe she will protect me,
From myself,
I curl myself around her,
And we sleep in peace.
By Herakles.
opening stride brings
broadening smile across the
north pennine snowfield
I like this a lot, in particular the reference to soft kisses ;), sorry......but seriously a really nice poem, hope you are recovering well Alf, i am v tired after high cup nick...Quote:
Originally Posted by Alf
Herakles i really liked your poem v soothing
If I could tell you
Time will say nothing but I told you so,
Time only knows the price we have to pay;
If I could tell you I would let you know.
If we should weep when clowns put on their show,
If we should stumble when musicians play,
Time will say nothing but I told you so.
There are no fortunes to be told, although,
Because I love you more than I can say,
If I could tell you I would let you know.
The winds must come from somewhere when they blow,
There must be reasons why the leaves decay;
Time will say nothing but I told you so.
Perhaps the roses really want to grow,
The vision seriously intends to stay;
If I could tell you I would let you know.
Suppose all the lions get up and go,
And all the brooks and soldiers run away;
Will Time say nothing but I told you so?
If I could tell you I would let you know.
W.H. Auden
Stars by Emily Bronte
Ah! why, because the dazzling sun
Restored our earth to joy
Have you departed, every one,
And left a desert sky?
All through the night, your glorious eyes
Were gazing down in mine,
And with a full heart's thankful sighs
I blessed that watch divine!
I was at peace, and drank your beams
As they were life to me
And revelled in my changeful dreams
Like petrel on the sea.
Thought followed thought star followed star
Through boundless regions on,
While one sweet influence, near and far,
Thrilled through and proved us one.
Why did the morning dawn to break
So great, so pure a spell,
And scorch with fire the tranquil cheek
Where your cool radiance fell?
Blood-red he rose, and arrow-straight
His fierce beams struck my brow:
The soul of Nature sprang elate,
But mine sank sad and low!
My lids closed down, yet through their veil
I saw him blazing still;
And steep in gold the misty dale
And flash upon the hill.
I turned me to the pillow then
To call back Night, and see
Your worlds of solemn light, again
Throb with my heart and me!
It would not do the pillow glowed
And glowed both roof and floor,
And birds sang loudly in the wood,
And fresh winds shook the door.
The curtains waved, the wakened flies
Were murmuring round my room,
Imprisoned there, till I should rise
And give them leave to roam.
O Stars and Dreams and Gentle Night;
O Night and Stars return!
And hide me from the hostile light
That does not warm, but burn
That drains the blood of suffering men;
Drinks tears, instead of dew:
Let me sleep through his blinding reign,
And only wake with you!
The Greatest Gift
Wordly fools search for exotic masters.
not realizing that their own mind is the master.