Nature is not a forgiving force
but she gives us time before she collects her due.
though we can’t leave things unresolved like the way I left things with you.
Some days when storm clouds gather
And a Spirited Wind whispers in my ear
I stand a face the things to come with measured fear.
Tonight as I lay my head upon my pillow
in the half light and shadows of a darkened room.
I let the dust of the day slip away and whisper a prayer that dreams come soon.
Write it on your heart
that every day is the best day in the year.
He is rich who owns the day, and no one owns the day
who allows it to be invaded with fret and anxiety.
Finish every day and be done with it.
You have done what you could.
Some blunders and absurdities, no doubt crept in.
Forget them as soon as you can, tomorrow is a new day;
begin it well and serenely, with too high a spirit
to be cumbered with your old nonsense.
This new day is too dear,
with its hopes and invitations,
to waste a moment on the yesterdays.
ralph waldo emerson
A little Emerson….
by Ralph Waldo Emerson
Thanks to the morning light,
Thanks to the seething sea,
To the uplands of New Hampshire,
To the green-haired forest free;
Thanks to each man of courage,
To the maids of holy mind,
To the boy with his games undaunted,
Who never looks behind.
Cities of proud hotels,
Houses of rich and great,
Vice nestles in your chambers,
Beneath your roofs of slate.
It cannot conquer folly,
And the light-outspeeding telegraph
Bears nothing on its beam.
The politics are base,
The letters do not cheer,
And ’tis far in the deeps of history—
The voice that speaketh clear.
Trade and the streets ensnare us,
Our bodies are weak and worn,
We plot and corrupt each other,
And we despoil the unborn.
play with your name across my lips.
how i imagine what is just beyond my finger tips.
oh, to get close enough for one sweet kiss.
tell me what am i supposed to do?
with all this love that I have for you.
i am just a crazy, love sick fool.
there’s a good reason why I try and hide
that you’re the moon that pulls my tide.
it’s cause she’s the one on your mind.
so i keep it all inside.
sweet baby tell me what am i supposed to do?
with all this love that i have for you.
just call me a sad, love sick fool.
i wish you knew all this love i have to give
that even what is bruised and broken still burns to live.
and still reaches out for you in the end.
tell me what I am supposed to do.
when this love I have for you
that burns true…
sometimes i think about brushing
your beautiful long lashes with my finger tips
and wonder about the taste of your full red lips.
would you smile when i let down your hair
and ran my fingers through the long dark strands?
what would it feel like to hold your hand?
and if i took you close
to slide you beneath me
would you be mine finally?
sometimes i wonder about you.