Sunday, February 27, 2011

I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud (Daffodils)

"I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud"

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:

Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:

A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:

I gazed---and gazed---but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

William Wordsworth

Saturday, August 14, 2010

Midsummer Night Itch

Mosquito is out,
it's the end of the day;
she's humming and hunting
her evening away.

Who knows why such hunger
arrives on such wings
at sundown? I guess
it's the nature of things.

N. M. Boedecker

Friday, July 2, 2010

Good Night

Many ways to say good night.

Fireworks at a pier on the Fourth of July
spell it with red wheels and yellow spokes.
They fizz in the air, touch the water and quit.
Rockets make a trajectory of gold-and-blue
and then go out.

Railroad trains at night spell with a smokestack mushrooming a white pillar.

Steamboats turn a curve in the Mississippi crying a baritone that crosses lowland cottonfields to razorback hill.

It is easy to spell good night.
Many ways to spell good night.

Carl Sandburg

Sunday, April 4, 2010

April Rain Song

April Rain Song

Let the rain kiss you
Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops
Let the rain sing you a lullaby
The rain makes still pools on the sidewalk
The rain makes running pools in the gutter
The rain plays a little sleep song on our roof at night
And I love the rain.

Langston Hughes

Monday, March 1, 2010



Dear March, come in!
How glad I am!
I looked for you before.
Put down your hat-
You must have walked-
How out of breath you are!

Dear March, how are you?
And the rest?
Did you leave Nature well?
Oh, March, come right upstairs with me,
I have so much to tell.

by Emily Dickinson

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Sonnets from the Portuguese IV

Sonnets from the Portuguese IV

If thou must love me
Let it be for naught except for love's sake only.
Do not say, "I love her for her smile--her look--her way of speaking gently--
For a trick of thought that falls in well with mine,
And certes brought a sense of pleasant ease on a such a day"--
For these things in themselves, Beloved, may be changed, or change for thee--and love,
So wrought may be unwrought so.
Neither love me for thine own dear pity's wiping my cheeks dry:
A creature might forget to weep, who bore thy comfort long, and lose thy love thereby!
But Love me for love's sake, that evermore thou mayst love on, through love's eternity.

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Tuesday, January 5, 2010

The Best Thing in the World

The Best Thing in the World

What's the best thing in the world?

June-rose, by May-dew impearled;
Sweet south-wind, that means no rain;

Truth, not cruel to a friend;
Pleasure, not in hate to end;

Beauty, not self-decked and curled
Till it's pride is over-plain;

Love, when, so, you're loved again.

What's the best thing in the world?
--Something out of it, I think.

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Ring Out Wild Bells

Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,
The flying cloud, the frosty light:
The year is dying in the night;
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.

Ring out the old, ring in the new,
Ring, happy bells, across the snow:
The year is going, let him go;
Ring out the false, ring in the true.

Ring out the grief that saps the mind,
For those that here we see no more;
Ring out the feud of rich and poor,
Ring in redress to all mankind.

Ring out a slowly dying cause,
And ancient forms of party strife;
Ring in the nobler modes of life,
With sweeter manners, purer laws.

Ring out the want, the care, the sin,
The faithless coldness of the times;
Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes,
But ring the fuller minstrel in.

Ring out false pride in place and blood,
The civic slander and the spite;
Ring in the love of truth and right,
Ring in the common love of good.

Ring out old shapes of foul disease;
Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;
Ring out the thousand wars of old,
Ring in the thousand years of peace.

Ring in the valiant man and free,
The larger heart, the kindlier hand;
Ring out the darkness of the land,
Ring in the Christ that is to be.

Alfred Lord Tennyson

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

The Holly and the Ivy

The holly and the ivy,
When they are both full grown,
Of all trees that are in the wood,
The holly bears the crown:

O, the rising of the sun,
And the running of the deer
The playing of the merry organ,
Sweet singing in the choir.

The holly bears a blossom,
As white as lily flow'r,
And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ,
To be our dear Saviour:


The holly bears a berry,
As red as any blood,
And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ,
To do poor sinners good:


The holly bears a prickle,
As sharp as any thorn,
And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ,
On Christmas Day in the morn:


The holly bears a bark,
As bitter as the gall,
And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ,
For to redeem us all:


The holly and the ivy,
When they are both full grown,
Of all trees that are in the wood,
The holly bears the crown:


Holly and Ivy calligraphy by Rosemary Buczeck for the Gilded Quill

Saturday, December 5, 2009


"In ancient times, both Druids and Romans hung sprigs of mistletoe in their homes and places of celebration to bring good fortune, peace and love."

Saturday, November 14, 2009

Over the River and Through the Woods

Lydia Maria Child was a novelist, journalist and a teacher.
"A Boy's Thanksgiving Day," most often called "Over the River and Through the Woods" was originally a poem written by Lydia Maria Child.
It celebrates her childhood memories of visiting her Grandfather's House.
The Thanksgiving song/poem originally appeared in Flowers for Children, volume 2, in 1844.

Over the river, and through the wood,
To Grandmother's house we go;
The horse knows the way to carry the sleigh
through the white and drifted snow.

Over the river, and through the wood -
Oh, how the wind does blow!
It stings the toes and bites the nose
As over the ground we go.

Over the river, and through the wood,
To have a first-rate play.
Hear the bells ring, "Ting-a-ling-ding",
Hurrah for Thanksgiving Day!

Over the river, and through the wood
Trot fast, my dapple-gray!
Spring over the ground like a hunting-hound,
For this is Thanksgiving Day.

Over the river, and through the wood -
And straight through the barnyard gate,
We seem to go extremely slow,
It is so hard to wait!

Over the river, and through the wood -
Now Grandmother's cap I spy!
Hurrah for the fun! Is the pudding done?
Hurrah for the pumpkin pie!

To hear this song click here to go to

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

They Did Their Share

They Did Their Share

On Veteran’s Day we honor
Soldiers who protect our nation.
For their service as our warriors,
They deserve our admiration.

Some of them were drafted;
Some were volunteers;
For some it was just yesterday;
For some it’s been many years;

In the jungle or the desert,
On land or on the sea,
They did whatever was assigned
To produce a victory.

Some came back; some didn’t.
They defended us everywhere.
Some saw combat; some rode a desk;
All of them did their share.

No matter what the duty,
For low pay and little glory,
These soldiers gave up normal lives,
For duties mundane and gory.

Let every veteran be honored;
Don’t let politics get in the way.
Without them, freedom would have died;
What they did, we can’t repay.

We owe so much to them,
Who kept us safe from terror,
So when we see a uniform,
Let’s say "thank you" to every wearer.

By Joanna Fuchs