At Sunset
To-night the west o’er-brims with warmest dyes;
Its chalice overflows
With pools of purple colouring the skies,
Aflood with gold and rose;
And some hot soul seems throbbing close to mine,
As sinks the sun within that world of wine
At Sunset
To-night the west o’er-brims with warmest dyes;
Its chalice overflows
With pools of purple colouring the skies,
Aflood with gold and rose;
And some hot soul seems throbbing close to mine,
As sinks the sun within that world of wine
What a Baby Costs
For babies people have to pay
A heavy price from day to day –
There is no way to get one cheap
Why, sometimes when they’re fast asleep
You have to get up in the night
And go and see that they’re alright.
But what they cost in constant care
And worry, does not half compare
With what they bring of joy and bliss –
You’d pay much more for just a kiss.
Edgar Guest (1881-1959)
A Dream Within A Dream
Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow-
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.
I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand-
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep- while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?
Edgar Allan Poe
Beauty
We live in a wonderful world that is full of beauty, charm and adventure. There is no end to the adventures that we can have if only we seek them with our eyes open.
Jawaharlal Nehru
The most precious jewels, you’ll ever have around your neck, are the arms of your children.
Running errands and talking on the phone,
I am pleasantly reminded that I am not alone.
Little tiny hands, a precious rounded knee,
pushing and twisting that no one can see.
Oh sweet child kicking up your heels,
it is our little secret that only I can feel.
I look forward to your birth,
when I can kiss your skin,
but for now I will just smile,
as I feel you play within.
Was never form and never face
So sweet to seyd as only grace
Which did not slumber like a stone,
But hovered gleaming and was gone.
I THINK that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the sweet earth’s flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.