Month: October 2018
Gifts ~ Poem by Sara Teasdale
Gifts
Sara Teasdale
I gave my first love laughter,
I gave my second tears,
I gave my third love silence
Through all the years.
My first love gave me singing,
My second eyes to see,
But oh, it was my third love
Who gave my soul to me.
Today’s Quote on Confidence & Courage
I am not afraid of storms for I am learning how to sail my ship.
Louisa May Alcott
If I Can Stop ~ Poem by Emily Dickinson
If I Can Stop
IF I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
Unto his nest again,
I shall not live in vain.
– Emily Dickinson
Today’s Quote on Strength by Emerson
Our strength grows out of our weakness.
Ralph Waldo Emerson
Afternoon on a Hill ~ Poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay
Afternoon on a Hill
I will be the gladdest thing
Under the sun!
I will touch a hundred flowers
And not pick one.
I will look at cliffs and clouds
With quiet eyes,
Watch the wind bow down the grass,
And the grass rise.
And when lights begin to show
Up from the town,
I will mark which must be mine,
And then start down!”
Excerpt From
Renascence, and Other Poems
Edna St. Vincent Millay
The Scarecrow ~ Poem by Kahlil Gibran
The Scarecrow
Once I said to a scarecrow, “You must be tired of standing in this lonely field.”
And he said, “The joy of scaring is a deep and lasting one, and I never tire of it.”
Said I, after a minute of thought, “It is true; for I too have known that joy.”
Said he, “Only those who are stuffed with straw can know it.”
Then I left him, not knowing whether he had complimented or belittled me.
A year passed, during which the scarecrow turned philosopher.
And when I passed by him again I saw two crows building a nest under his hat.
Excerpt From
The Madman: His Parables and Poems
Kahlil Gibran
Today’s Quote on the Power of Love
Lord, give us the power of hope,
The fire of love,
The light of faith.
Pope John Paul II
The Human Seasons ~ Poem by John Keats
The Human Seasons
Four Seasons fill the measure of the year;
There are four seasons in the mind of man:
He has his lusty Spring, when fancy clear
Takes in all beauty with an easy span:
He has his Summer, when luxuriously
Spring’s honied cud of youthful thought he loves
To ruminate, and by such dreaming high
Is nearest unto heaven: quiet coves
His soul has in its Autumn, when his wings
He furleth close; contented so to look
On mists in idleness—to let fair things
Pass by unheeded as a threshold brook.
He has his Winter too of pale misfeature,
Or else he would forego his mortal nature.
John Keats
