Solitude

BY ELLA WHEELER WILCOX

Laugh, and the world laughs with you;

    Weep, and you weep alone;

For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,

    But has trouble enough of its own.

Sing, and the hills will answer;

    Sigh, it is lost on the air;

The echoes bound to a joyful sound,

    But shrink from voicing care.

Rejoice, and men will seek you;

    Grieve, and they turn and go;

They want full measure of all your pleasure,

    But they do not need your woe.

Be glad, and your friends are many;

    Be sad, and you lose them all,—

There are none to decline your nectared wine,

    But alone you must drink life’s gall.

Feast, and your halls are crowded;

    Fast, and the world goes by.

Succeed and give, and it helps you live,

    But no man can help you die.

There is room in the halls of pleasure

    For a large and lordly train,

But one by one we must all file on

    Through the narrow aisles of pain.

Eighteen Again

Who Wants to be Eighteen Again?

By Wayne Hinton

1/29/15

So George wants to be eighteen again –

I can’t say that I agree.

The high school years were difficult.

They were very hard for me.

Stephen may have said it best,

“No kid in high school feels as though they fit in”

Boys are interested in girls,

But they don’t know how to begin.

The smart kids want to be accepted

But the in-crowd feels inferior.

Most others want to learn because they think

The smart kids are superior.

Each one is searching for something

And no one is sure just what it is.

We all thought the others knew

And we feared failing the quiz.

Boys are intimidated by teenage girls

And the girls like to hang together.

So the boys try to impress the girls

By playing football in stormy weather.

I've heard it said that girls mature faster;

Boys are at a loss and don’t understand

That the girls they talked to in grade school

Speak a new language and make it sound grand.

When asked if a young boy likes the girls.

He will reply as all young lads do.

He’ll say he likes them just as friends

But deep inside he knows that’s not true.

The teen years also bring an awakening

That parents are not always right.

You've believe everything they've told you.

Now new things come to light.

Even textbooks cannot be believed

Although they are taught as true.

We find out that what we are told

Is not what we thought we knew.

Stephen said more when he said

“If you liked being a teenager, there's something really wrong with you.” 

No, George, I don’t want to be eighteen again.

I just have a different point of view.

Daffodils

I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud

BY WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o'er vales and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd,

A host, of golden daffodils;

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine

And twinkle on the milky way,

They stretched in never-ending line

Along the margin of a bay:

Ten thousand saw I at a glance,

Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they

Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:

A poet could not but be gay,

In such a jocund company:

I gazed—and gazed—but little thought

What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie

In vacant or in pensive mood,

They flash upon that inward eye

Which is the bliss of solitude;

And then my heart with pleasure fills,

And dances with the daffodils.

Remember

BY CHRISTINA ROSSETTI

Remember me when I am gone away,

         Gone far away into the silent land;

         When you can no more hold me by the hand,

Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.

Remember me when no more day by day

         You tell me of our future that you plann'd:

         Only remember me; you understand

It will be late to counsel then or pray.

Yet if you should forget me for a while

         And afterwards remember, do not grieve:

         For if the darkness and corruption leave

         A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,

Better by far you should forget and smile

         Than that you should remember and be sad.

Crossing the Bar

BY ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON

Sunset and evening star,

      And one clear call for me!

And may there be no moaning of the bar,

      When I put out to sea,

   But such a tide as moving seems asleep,

      Too full for sound and foam,

When that which drew from out the boundless deep

      Turns again home.

   Twilight and evening bell,

      And after that the dark!

And may there be no sadness of farewell,

      When I embark;

   For tho' from out our bourne of Time and Place

      The flood may bear me far,

I hope to see my Pilot face to face

      When I have crost the bar.

I Hear America Singing 

by Walt Whitman

I hear America singing, the varied carols I hear,

Those of mechanics, each one singing his as it should be blithe and strong,

The carpenter singing his as he measures his plank or beam,

The mason singing his as he makes ready for work, or leaves off work,

The boatman singing what belongs to him in his boat, the deckhand singing on the steamboat deck,

The shoemaker singing as he sits on his bench, the hatter singing as he stands,

The wood-cutter’s song, the ploughboy’s on his way in the morning, or at noon intermission or at sundown,

The delicious singing of the mother, or of the young wife at work, or of the girl sewing or washing,

Each singing what belongs to him or her and to none else,

The day what belongs to the day — at night the party of young fellows, robust, friendly,

Singing with open mouths their strong melodious songs.

How Do I Love Thee?

Elizabeth Barrett Browning, 1806 - 1861

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day’s
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

Poor Old Lady

BY ANONYMOUS

Poor old lady, she swallowed a fly.

I don't know why she swallowed a fly.

Poor old lady, I think she'll die.

Poor old lady, she swallowed a spider.

It squirmed and wriggled and turned inside her.

She swallowed the spider to catch the fly.

I don't know why she swallowed a fly.

Poor old lady, I think she'll die.

Poor old lady, she swallowed a bird.

How absurd!   She swallowed a bird.

She swallowed the bird to catch the spider,

She swallowed the spider to catch the fly,

I don't know why she swallowed a fly.

Poor old lady, I think she'll die.

Poor old lady, she swallowed a cat.

Thank of that!   She swallowed a cat.

She swallowed the cat to catch the bird.

She swallowed the bird to catch the spider.

She swallowed the spider to catch the fly,

I don't know why she swallowed a fly.

Poor old lady, I think she'll die.

Poor old lady, she swallowed a dog.

She went the whole hog when she swallowed the dog.

She swallowed the dog to catch the cat,

She swallowed the cat to catch the bird,

She swallowed the bird to catch the spider.

She swallowed the spider to catch the fly,

I don't know why she swallowed a fly.

Poor old lady, I think she'll die.

Poor old lady, she swallowed a cow.

I don't know how she swallowed a cow.

She swallowed the cow to catch the dog,

She swallowed the dog to catch the cat,

She swallowed the cat to catch the bird,

She swallowed the bird to catch the spider,

She swallowed the spider to catch the fly,

I don't know why she swallowed a fly.

Poor old lady, I think she'll die.

Poor old lady, she swallowed a horse.

She died, of course.

So, We'll Go No More a Roving

by Lord Byron

So, we'll go no more a roving 
  So late into the night,
Though the heart be still as loving,
  And the moon be still as bright.

For the sword outwears its sheath,
  And the soul wears out the breast,
And the heart must pause to breathe,
  And love itself have rest.

Though the night was made for loving,
  And the day returns too soon,
Yet we'll go no more a roving
  By the light of the moon.

For Great or Small

For Great or Small
by Margaret Loyd Rockwood

Of misty morn and silent glen,
The distant chirping of a wren,
Untrodden path of mossy green,
And hidden creatures all unseen.

Of rippling brook and waterfall,
And earthy smell of trees so tall,
The dew in droplets lying still,
And shadows on a distant hill.

To touch the life, to smell and feel
Then under canopy to kneel
And there give thanks for great and small
And to our God, who made it all.

An Act of Love

An Act of Love
by Clay Harrison

An act of love need not be
a gesture great or grand ...

A smile can work a miracle
and show you understand.

Being there in time of need
transcends the spoken word;

A helping hand is simply grand
when hearts begin to bleed.

A prayer is nothing till it's heard
beyond the highest leaf,

But when it's answered, oh my friend,
how strong is our belief!

An act of love may simply be
a smile, a hug, a kiss ...

But it's a joy for all to see
when troubles come like this.

Beautiful Wings

Beautiful Wings
by Marion Schoeberlein

God gives the sky its wings when clouds
Go drifting by like airplanes.
He puts the silver wings in rain
As it curls up on windowpanes.

He gives the snow its crystal wings
When it falls softly on the ground
And flowers their own kind of wings
That never make a single sound.

No matter where I look, it seems
God fills the world with lovely things
That dance in poetry and give
Each day its different kind of wings!

The Guardian

The Guardian
by Loise Pinkerton Fritz
(Proverbs 3:33b)

God watches over everything
When all the world is still
He sees the leaves on quiet trees
Upon the rolling hills.
He guards the valleys deep in sleep,
The waters, rippleless,
And blesses every heart and home
Where He's the Honored Guest.

The Violinist

The Violinist
by Julie E. Jones  

Life is like a violin
God puts into our hand,
From the strings the bow will
Draw a tune each heart demands.

With age the hand will tremble
On the bow it weakly holds,
Producing tunes of sharps and flats,
Of cherished dreams grown old.

Ah, how sweet the song could be
If we had learned in youth,
And on our violins played love,
God's universal truth.

No Fear

Sarah Williams:

Though my soul may set in darkness,
It will rise in perfect light;
I have loved the stars too fondly
To be fearful of the night.

The Light and The Way

The Light and The Way
by Dolores Karides

As you walk along life's pathways
Through the night and through the day
You will never lose direction
If you let God lead the way.

For His love can pierce the darkness
And make shadows disappear
And His light reveals the grandeur
As to Heaven you draw near.

To Love is ...

To Love is ...
by Nancy Neff Dostle

...to awaken each morn
and drink in the dawning of God's new day,
rejoicing in it.

...to spread wide our arms
and say, "Yes!"
to the whole world.

...to laugh heartily
when the sky is raining tears and wrath,
as we do in the golden glow of God's sun.

...to live fully each precious moment
joyfully giving to others
what God has so graciously given to us.

...to find the courage to go on living
and to extend a helping hand to others
when our own hearts are breaking.

...to see the face of Jesus
even in the lowliest of men,
knowing that he, too, is a child of God,
loved by Him.

Minutes of Gold

Minutes of Gold
Anonymous

Two or three minutes - two or three hours.
What do they mean in this life of ours?
Not very much if but counted as time,
But minutes of gold and hours sublime,
If only we'll use them once in a while
To make someone happy - make someone smile.
A minute may dry a little lad's tears,
An hour sweep aside trouble of years.
Minutes of my time may bring to an end
Hopelessness somewhere, and bring me a friend.

Life is Brief

Life is Brief
by Loreta Inman

Time is such a precious thing
We should value every minute
And bless the world with kindly deeds
The short time we live in it.

God Gives Me Time

God Gives Me Time
anonymous

God gives me time to love the right,
Though crowded are my days,
He gives me time to find delight
In quiet thoughts of praise.

God gives me time to rise above
All little, petty things
And feel the comfort of His love,
The joy His presence brings.

God gives me time to share the load
Of those less blest than I
Then walks beside me on the road
With grace to satisfy.

God gives me time - oh, I would spend
Each precious moment well,
For when God's gift of time shall end,
I must bid earth farewell!

Today

Today
by Polly Thornton

Oh Lord, I thank You for today
Each precious hour along the way.
The brilliant dawn and noon's warm rays
The sky at sunset, twilight's haze.

I do not take for granted, God,
The seagull and the goldenrod
The sparkling glimmers on the sea
Your loving touches, touching me.

Though I'm at times preoccupied
With pain and problems sorely tried
Somehow with joy my heart sings out
For this beauty You've brought about.

I've had my share of bliss and sorrow
But know not if I'll have tomorrow
So, for what we've shared in sweet accord
Today, I thank You. loving Lord.

Like a Jewel

Like a Jewel
by Alice Hansche Mortenson

You've given me another day, dear Lord!
May I handle it like a jewel;
not waste it away
by vain words I say,
just chatting away like a fool.

Let me do something constructive today;
(Time is slipping away so fast)
by prayer, word or deed
fill somebody's need,
a jewel that forever will last!

Now is the Moment

Now is the Moment
by Michael Dubina

We must not wait to show our love
For those our hearts hold dear.
Our gift of life is not assured,
Beyond this moment's sphere.
Now is the time to love express:
A tender kiss; a fond caress.

Tomorrow may be much too late
To pray, confess and tell;
By Grace of God, we could be called
To bonds of earth dispel.
Now is the moment to endow,
With love of heart and promised vow.

So, let it be - for you and me --
This moment to enshrine;
Let free the love within our hearts
To blossom and entwine.
This could be all the time we own
To live and love, and to atone.

This Day is Mine

This Day is Mine

by Jerry R. Hubbard

(song sung by Glen Campbell)

When the sun came up this morning I took the time to watch it rise
And as its beauty struck the darkness from the sky
I thought how small and unimportant all my troubles seem to be
And how lucky another day belongs to me.

And as the sleepy world around me woke up to greet the day
All its silent beauties seemed to say
So what my friend if all your dreams you have and realized
Just look around you you got a whole new day to try
Today is mine today is mine to do with what I will
Today is mine my own special cup to fill
To die a little that I might learn to live to take from life that I might learn to give
Today is mine

Like most men I cursed the present to avoid the peace of mind
And raise my thoughts beyond tomorrow and vision there more peace of mind
But as I view this day around me I can see the fool I've been
For today's the only garden we can tend
Today is mine...

One Tender Moment

One Tender Moment
by Grace E. Easley

I think the sweetest joys in life,
Are those more felt than seen,
When someone sees within our soul,
With nothing in between.
When trust is freely given,
Hearts meet on common ground,
And this ignites a spark that lights
Up everything around.

Only when we grow more simple
Can the love within us all
Spill forth touching all with splendor
That's a wonder to recall.

One such very tender moment
Was it given me to share
When I came upon a red bird
Perched upon my feeder there.

He had weathered many winters,
It was very plain to see,
But his eyes were calm and steady
As he turned to gaze at me.
And the thing I am most proud of
In all my life today ...
Is that he let me stroke his back,
... And didn't fly away.

The Hand of God

The Hand of God
by Harold F. Mohn

I saw a flash of lightning
Light up the summer sky.
I saw the brilliant rainbow
Slowly fade and die.
I saw the leaves turn color
Then slowly fall to earth.
I saw the land in springtime
Turn green amidst rebirth.
All this is part of nature
And God's creative hand,
That makes this world in which we live
So wondrous and so grand.

Expectation

Expectation
by Roxie Lusk Smith

O, give me such quiet things -
The soft-spun clouds above;
The whisper of a falling leaf;
A hand extending love.

Such sacred things
As thought in prayer;
And tears that life to praise;
The calming spirit in my mind,
With strength to meet my days.

O, let me hear
The still, small Voice
Within my listening soul:
And let me speak the words of heart
That comfort and console.

Just Yesterday I Heard the Rain

by Mary E. Harrington

Just yesterday I heard the rain
It splashed upon my window pane,
Outside there raged a gusty wind
But I was safe and warm within.

My little home was snug and tight,
My heart it held no thoughts of fright,
And as the rain fell from above
I truly knew that God is love.

I knew the storm would not last long
And soon I heard the kettle's song,
Then sitting down to sip some tea
I thanked the Lord for watching me.

And soon I saw the sun appear
I looks and saw a rainbow near,
My eyes beheld a wondrous view
The world all washed so fresh and new.

The wind was hushed now, calm and still,
The wheel was turning by the mill,
I saw sweet blossoms in the lane
And thus I thanked God for the rain.

New Year's Eve

by Sandra Town Lytle

I like to spend my New Year's eves
In solitude, in humble prayer,
In thanks for each year, as it leaves;
For one more year of God's sweet care.
Then, too, I pray for strength, that I
Might do His will this coming year
And that I might still harder try
To be a friend to those held dear.
I've had my years of "gaiety,"
With parties and a noisy crowd -
And emptiness inside of me
While those around me laugh too loud.
In these, my gold years, I find
The way to end the old year right,
Which gives me joy and peace of mind
Before retiring for the night,
Is blissful hours at home alone,
With music, and a gook to read,
And time in prayer for love God's shown -
It's all I ask ... and all I need.

Casey at the Bat

By Ernest Lawrence Thayer

The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Mudville nine that day; 
The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play,
And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same,
A pall-like silence fell upon the patrons of the game. 

A straggling few got up to go in deep despair. The rest
Clung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast;
They thought, "If only Casey could but get a whack at that--
We'd put up even money now, with Casey at the bat." 

But Flynn preceded Casey, as did also Jimmy Blake,
And the former was a lulu, while the latter was a cake;
So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat,
For there seemed but little chance of Casey getting to the bat.

But Flynn let drive a single, to the wonderment of all,
And Blake, the much despised, tore the cover off the ball;
And when the dust had lifted, and men saw what had occurred,
There was Jimmy safe at second and Flynn a-hugging third. 

Then from five thousand throats and more there rose a lusty yell;
It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell;
It pounded on the mountain and recoiled upon the flat,
For Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat. 

There was ease in Casey's manner as he stepped into his place;
There was pride in Casey's bearing and a smile lit Casey's face.
And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat,
No stranger in the crowd could doubt 'twas Casey at the bat. 

Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt;
Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt;
Then while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip,
Defiance flashed in Casey's eye, a sneer curled Casey's lip. 

And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air,
And Casey stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.
Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped--
"That ain't my style," said Casey. "Strike one!" the umpire said. 

From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar,
Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore;
"Kill him! Kill the umpire!" shouted some one on the stand;
And it's likely they'd have killed him had not Casey raised his hand. 

With a smile of Christian charity great Casey's visage shone;
He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on;
He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the dun sphere flew;
But Casey still ignored it, and the umpire said, "Strike two!" 

"Fraud!" cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered "Fraud!"
But one scornful look from Casey and the audience was awed.
They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,
And they knew that Casey wouldn't let that ball go by again. 

The sneer has fled from Casey's lip, his teeth are clenched in hate;
He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate.
And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go.
And now the air is shattered by the force of Casey's blow. 

Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright;
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,
And somewhere men are laughing, and little children shout;
But there is no joy in Mudville--great Casey has struck out