Friday 27 February 2015
Thursday 26 February 2015
The Thursday Poem
Potted Flowers with Books IV Eric Barjot First Fig My candle burns at both ends; It will not last the night; But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends It gives a lovely light! Edna St Vincent Millay (22nd February 1892 - 19th October 1950) |
Wednesday 25 February 2015
Sunday 22 February 2015
The Sunday Prayer
|
Father, Mother, God,
Thank you for your presence during the hard and mean days.
For then we have you to lean upon.
Thank you for your presence during the bright and sunny days.
For then we can share that which we have with those who have less.
And thank you for your presence during the Holy Days.
For then we are able to celebrate you and our families and our friends
For those who have no voice, we ask you to speak.
For those who feel unworthy, we ask you to pour your love out in waterfalls of tenderness.
For those who live in pain, we ask you to bathe them in the river of your healing.
For those who are lonely, we ask you to keep them company.
For those who are depressed, we ask you to shower upon them the light of hope.
Dear Creator, You, the borderless sea of substance, we ask you to give to all the world that which we need most.....PEACE.
Maya Angelou
(4th April 1928 - 28th May 2014)
Friday 20 February 2015
Thursday 19 February 2015
The Thursday Poem
Potted Flowers with Books IV Eric Barjot from To His Coy Mistress Had we but world enough, and time, This coyness, Lady, were no crime. We would sit down, and think which way To walk, and pass our long love's day. Thou by the Indian Ganges' side Shouldst rubies find: I by the tide of Humber would complain. I would Love you ten years before the Flood: And you should, if you please, refuse Till the conversion of the Jews. My vegetable love should grow Vaster than empires, and more slow. An hundred years should go to praise Thine eyes, and on thy forehead gaze. Two hundred to adore each breast: But thirty thousand to the rest. An age at least to every part, And the last age should show your heart. For, Lady, you deserve this state; Nor would I love at lower rate. But at my back I always hear Time's winged chariot hurrying near: And yonder all before us lie Deserts of vast eternity. Thy beauty shall no more be found; Nor, in thy marble vault, shall sould My echoing song: then worms shall try That long preserved virginity: And your quaint honour turn to dust; And into ashes all my lust. The grave's a fine and private place, But none I think do there embrace; Now therefore, while the youthful hue Sits on thy skin like morning due, And while thy willing soul transpires At every pore with instant fires, Now let us sport us while we may; And now, like amorous birds of prey, Rather at once our time devour, Than languish in his slow-chapt power. Let us roll all our strength, and all Our sweetness, up into one ball: And tear our pleasures with rough strife, Through the iron gates of life. Thus, though we cannot make our sun Stand still, yet we will make him run. Andrew Manvell (31st March 1621 - 16th or 18th August 1678) |
Wednesday 18 February 2015
Sunday 15 February 2015
The Sunday Prayer
|
Father, Mother, God,
Thank you for your presence during the hard and mean days.
For then we have you to lean upon.
Thank you for your presence during the bright and sunny days.
For then we can share that which we have with those who have less.
And thank you for your presence during the Holy Days.
For then we are able to celebrate you and our families and our friends
For those who have no voice, we ask you to speak.
For those who feel unworthy, we ask you to pour your love out in waterfalls of tenderness.
For those who live in pain, we ask you to bathe them in the river of your healing.
For those who are lonely, we ask you to keep them company.
For those who are depressed, we ask you to shower upon them the light of hope.
Dear Creator, You, the borderless sea of substance, we ask you to give to all the world that which we need most.....PEACE.
Maya Angelou
(4th April 1928 - 28th May 2014)
Friday 13 February 2015
Thursday 12 February 2015
The Thursday Poem
Potted Flowers with Books IV Eric Barjot The Starlight Night Look at the stars! look, look up at the skies! O look at all the fire-folk sitting in the air! The bright boroughs, the circle-citadels there! Down in dim woods the diamond delves! the elves'-eyes! The grey lawns cold where gold, where quickgold lies! Wind-beat whitebeam! airy abeles' set on a flare! Flake-doves sent floating forth at a farmyard scare! - Ah well! it is all a purchase, all is a prize. Buy then! bid then! - What? - Prayer, patience, alms, vows, Look, look: a May-ness, like on orchard boughs! Look! March-bloom, like on mealed-with-yellow sallows! These are indeed the barn; withindoors house The shocks. This piece-bright paling shuts the spouse Christ home, Christ and his mother and all his hallows. Gerard Manley Hopkins (28th July 1844 - 8th June 1889) |
Wednesday 11 February 2015
Sunday 8 February 2015
The Sunday Prayer
|
Father, Mother, God,
Thank you for your presence during the hard and mean days.
For then we have you to lean upon.
Thank you for your presence during the bright and sunny days.
For then we can share that which we have with those who have less.
And thank you for your presence during the Holy Days.
For then we are able to celebrate you and our families and our friends
For those who have no voice, we ask you to speak.
For those who feel unworthy, we ask you to pour your love out in waterfalls of tenderness.
For those who live in pain, we ask you to bathe them in the river of your healing.
For those who are lonely, we ask you to keep them company.
For those who are depressed, we ask you to shower upon them the light of hope.
Dear Creator, You, the borderless sea of substance, we ask you to give to all the world that which we need most.....PEACE.
Maya Angelou
(4th April 1928 - 28th May 2014)
Friday 6 February 2015
Thursday 5 February 2015
The Thursday Poem
Potted Flowers with Books IV Eric Barjot
from Cymbeline
Act IV Scene ii
Gui Fear no more the heat o' the sun,
Nor the furious winter's rages,
Thou thy worldly task hast done,
Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages,
Golden lads, and girls all must,
As chimney-sweepers come to dust.
Arv Fear no more the forwn o' th' great,
Thou art past the tyrant's stroke,
Care no more to clothe and eat,
To thee the reed is as the oak;
The sceptre, learning, physic must
All follow this, and come to dust.
Gui Fear no more the lightning flash,
Arv Nor th'all-dreaded thunderstone.
Gui Fear not slander, censure rash.
Arv Thou hast finish'd joy and moan.
Both All lovers young, all lovers must,
Consign to thee and come to dust.
Gui No exorciser harm thee,
Arv Nor no witch-craft charm thee,
Gui Ghost unlaid forbear thee,
Arv Nothing ill come near thee.
Both Quiet consummation have,
And renowned be thy grave.
William Shakespeare
(23rd April 1564 - 23rd April 1616)
|
Wednesday 4 February 2015
Sunday 1 February 2015
The Sunday Prayer
|
Father, Mother, God,
Thank you for your presence during the hard and mean days.
For then we have you to lean upon.
Thank you for your presence during the bright and sunny days.
For then we can share that which we have with those who have less.
And thank you for your presence during the Holy Days.
For then we are able to celebrate you and our families and our friends
For those who have no voice, we ask you to speak.
For those who feel unworthy, we ask you to pour your love out in waterfalls of tenderness.
For those who live in pain, we ask you to bathe them in the river of your healing.
For those who are lonely, we ask you to keep them company.
For those who are depressed, we ask you to shower upon them the light of hope.
Dear Creator, You, the borderless sea of substance, we ask you to give to all the world that which we need most.....PEACE.
Maya Angelou
(4th April 1928 - 28th May 2014)
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