Showing posts with label William Wordsworth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label William Wordsworth. Show all posts

Tuesday, June 24, 2014

Breathing In ~





"And 'tis my faith,
that every flower enjoys
the air it breathes."
William Wordsworth
*  *  *
breathe deep
*  *  *
are any of you who use blogger
having trouble seeing your reading list?
 

Sunday, October 6, 2013

Sunlit ~

"Come forth into the light of things,
 Let Nature be your teacher.”
William Wordsworth
*  *  *
 
 
 

Sunday, August 11, 2013

Quietly Colored ~



"All that we behold is full of blessings.” 
William Wordsworth
*  *  *

Thursday, August 1, 2013

Blueberry ~

*  *  *
perhaps there are some of you
who remember
the song
by
Fats Domino
 *  *  *
a container of freshly picked blueberries
brought by friends was savored
and deeply appreciated
*  *  *
"The best portion of a good man's life:
 his little, nameless unremembered
 acts of kindness and love.”
 William Wordsworth
*  *  *
 
 

Wednesday, May 1, 2013

May Day ~




they all gather
by the bird feeders
the one with the tail not
seeming to realize
he's a bird of "different feather"
*  *  *
"The birds around me hopp'd and play'd
Their thoughts I cannot measure,
But the least motion which they made
It seem'd a thrill of pleasure."
William Wordsworth
Written in Early Spring
 


Tuesday, November 20, 2012

For The Ordinary Days ~

"Rest and Be Thankful"
William Wordsworth
*  *  *
thankful for each one of you
[a little click on the photo will enlarge]

Monday, July 9, 2012

Sanctuary ~

TO A BUTTERFLY
Written in the orchard, Town-end, Grasmere
1802
 
I've watched you now a full half-hour;
self-poised upon that yellow flower
and, little Butterfly! indeed
I know not if you sleep or feed.
How motionless! -- not frozen seas
more motionless! and then
what joy awaits you, when the breeze
hath found you out among the trees,
and calls you forth again!
 
This plot of orchard-ground is ours;
my trees they are, my Sister's flowers;
here rest your wings when they are weary;
here lodge as in a sanctuary!
Come often to us, fear no wrong;
sit near us on the bough!
We'll talk of sunshine and of song,
and summer days, when we were young;
sweet childish days, that were as long
as twenty days are now.