Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 02, 2010
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Tuesday, June 09, 2009
Robin's nest...
Not six feet from the ground
A bunch of eyes looked down on me
While I milled around
The papa bird had spotted me
and looked on from afar
His beak packed with a tasty meal
Not taken from a jar
The babies chirped for sustenance
A morsel from their father
So, slowly I just backed away
And no more was a bother
Saturday, April 19, 2008
broken and random...
I was googling the term "broken" to find something that would fit this image and came across a fantastic random poem generator site:
Broken Poem
broken poem
ignore it
love & fame & death
the hammers pounding in nails
the dead plants...
he stayed there on his big rump
the warmth of the grape
ignore the poor
walk along the street
Broken Poem
broken poem
ignore it
love & fame & death
the hammers pounding in nails
the dead plants...
he stayed there on his big rump
the warmth of the grape
ignore the poor
walk along the street
Tuesday, December 04, 2007
Where the Sidewalk Ends...
There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.
Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.
Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.
—Shel Silverstein
I always loved Shel Silverstein's poems as a child. And while walking recently I found the magical spot.
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.
Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.
Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.
—Shel Silverstein
I always loved Shel Silverstein's poems as a child. And while walking recently I found the magical spot.
Sunday, May 06, 2007
Fickle Muses...
"Fickle Muses is an online journal of poetry and fiction engaged with myth and legend. Fickle Muses publishes writing that connects the contemporary reader with ancient tradition and a sense of wonder in the world of past, present and future."—from the Fickle Muses site
Through the month of May one of my photos will be featured on the home page with a link to my blog. I hope that you will stop by and if interested sign up for the newsletter and submit some of your work.
Through the month of May one of my photos will be featured on the home page with a link to my blog. I hope that you will stop by and if interested sign up for the newsletter and submit some of your work.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
