Still achieving, still pursuing...

I braved up and as you can see by the picture below, I hung out with Emily yesterday...with her watching every word I typed!  Hopefully she passed approval on my powerpoint preparation.  And who did you take to work with you, or ask to sit beside you in the car, or on the sofa, or in your kitchen?  I hope it was someone inspiring or someone who gave you a moment of laughter, because that is the wonderful thing about poetry--it elevates the moment. 

A WORD is dead

When it is said,

Some say.

I say it just

Begins to live

That day.

--Emily Dickinson

My daughter said she found the idea of Edgar Allen Poe staring at her all day a little "creepy."  I think Poe has that effect on people.

Today I'm going to share a few of my very favorite poems.  So if you didn't "take a poet to work" yesterday perhaps you can instead carry one of these poemss with you for when times get tough and you need a little sunshine in your soul.

Barter

Sara Teasdale

Life has loveliness to sell,
All beautiful and splendid things,
Blue waves whitened on a cliff,
Soaring fire that sways and sings,
And children's faces looking up
Holding wonder like a cup.

Life has loveliness to sell,
Music like a curve of gold,
Scent of pine trees in the rain,
Eyes that love you, arms that hold,
And for your spirit's still delight,
Holy thoughts that star the night.

Spend all you have for loveliness,
Buy it and never count the cost;
For one white singing hour of peace
Count many a year of strife well lost,
And for a breath of ecstasy
Give all you have been, or could be.

 

Sara looks like someone you could sit on the front porch, sip lemonade and have a lovely conversation

Music

Bessie Rayner Parkes

Sweet melody amidst the moving spheres
Breaks forth, a solemn and entrancing sound,
A harmony whereof the earth's green hills
Give but the faintest echo; yet is there
A music everywhere, and concert sweet!
All birds which sing amidst the forest deep
Till the flowers listen with unfolded bells;
All winds that murmur over summer grass,
Or curl the waves upon the pebbly shore;
Chiefly all earnest human voices rais'd
In charity and for the cause of truth,
Mingle together in one sacred chord,
And float, a grateful incense, up to God.



Bessie, a good friend of Longfellow's, looks a little more intimidating.  She was British, so I guess we would stroll through her garden and sip tea instead of lemonade.

A Time to Talk

Robert Frost

When a friend calls to me from the road
And slows his horse to a meaning walk,
I don't stand still and look around
On all the hills I haven't hoed,
And shout from where I am, 'What is it?'
No, not as there is a time to talk.
I thrust my hoe in the mellow ground,
Blade-end up and five feet tall,
And plod: I go up to the stone wall
For a friendly visit.

 



Hopefully Robert meant what he said, so he'd be open to a nice conversation underneath his apple trees in his meadow!  I recall this poem often on days when life gets crazy and I find myself thinking I don't have time to slow down and cherish my time with myfamily and friends.



 

And because my love of poetry stems from my grandmother and mother, this post wouldn't be complete without the following poem.  I say the final stanza anytime I find myself lagging--I can almost hear my mother reciting it in my head!  I love you, Mom!

 

A Psalm of Life

 Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

 

What The Heart Of The Young Man Said To The Psalmist.

Tell me not, in mournful numbers,

   Life is but an empty dream!

For the soul is dead that slumbers,

   And things are not what they seem.

Life is real! Life is earnest!

   And the grave is not its goal;

Dust thou art, to dust returnest,

   Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,

   Is our destined end or way;

But to act, that each to-morrow

   Find us farther than to-day.

Art is long, and Time is fleeting,

   And our hearts, though stout and brave,

Still, like muffled drums, are beating

   Funeral marches to the grave.

In the world’s broad field of battle,

   In the bivouac of Life,

Be not like dumb, driven cattle!

   Be a hero in the strife!

Trust no Future, howe’er pleasant!

   Let the dead Past bury its dead!

Act,— act in the living Present!

   Heart within, and God o’erhead!

Lives of great men all remind us

   We can make our lives sublime,

And, departing, leave behind us

   Footprints on the sands of time;

Footprints, that perhaps another,

   Sailing o’er life’s solemn main,

A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,

   Seeing, shall take heart again.

Let us, then, be up and doing,

   With a heart for any fate;

Still achieving, still pursuing,

   Learn to labor and to wait.

Have a Tremendous Thursday!