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NAP2614
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Re: Poetry - just poetry ....

Economics
Victoria Redel, 1959

There were strollers, outgrown, circulated till a wheel fell off.

Anna’s infant RockaRoo went to Francesca then to Sophia

who gave it back to Anna when she had the twins.

Travel cribs traveled between homes and the green vest

Sophia knitted for Ming’s first was worn by all the next babies.

Onesies, drawstring gowns, snap-legged overalls,

snowsuits, sweatpants, jeans, t-shirts, jumpers,

all sorted, washed, boxed then sent on

till they were sorted, washed, boxed and sent again.

Pj’s worn to that silkiest perfection, then worn

wholly through, reluctantly tossed. A blue dress

with applique lilacs was the favorite of each girl

and who knew where the velvet blazer came from,

but it did the job for more than one holiday concert.
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bjbdbest
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Re: Poetry - just poetry ....

wordless// a summary of summer
-Jireh Hong

how do you draw a daydream
and color the sounds of laughter blue
expect me to walk on unseen tightropes,
put this confusion into words,
and patch up my past so that it
seems good as new?

been in a desert for some months now
ever since i got back from
the future, i thought what i saw in the mirror
before would look better
different, like a me two point oh
though instead I was more like
the "Oh," children say with a
disappointed sigh and shrug when
they rip open wrappers and expect to find toys
but instead get hand me downs
from their older cousins.
needless to say I wasn't even back
to square one; no
my feet stood stiffly on a
handpainted red zero

the past sixty-something days after that was somehow bliss, seeing faces you
don't see everyday and going
on spontaneous road trips,
I liked that best: going away.
until those faces became familiar and
then they had to leave
I hated that most: going away.

during those times it was
unbelievably sunny, like the sun
decided to up his game a little bit
this year and throw in more heat
but yesterday, it hid behind the
clouds and cried until it soaked
roads, buildings, and bridges.
summer is part over and
it's rainy now, yet I'm still stuck
inching forward, jumping
back, and my arms are hurting from
straining to keep my head focused
on what's ahead

note to self: let go.
I hope
the heart of my brain
remembers that
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bjbdbest
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Re: Poetry - just poetry ....

A Minor Poet
- Stephen Vincent Benét

I am a shell. From me you shall not hear
The splendid tramplings of insistent drums,
The orbed gold of the viol’s voice that comes,
Heavy with radiance, languorous and clear.
Yet, if you hold me close against the ear,
A dim, far whisper rises clamorously,
The thunderous beat and passion of the sea,
The slow surge of the tides that drown the mere.

Others with subtle hands may pluck the strings,
Making even Love in music audible,
And earth one glory. I am but a shell
That moves, not of itself, and moving sings;
Leaving a fragrance, faint as wine new-shed,
A tremulous murmur from great days long dead.
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David Autumns
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Re: Poetry - just poetry ....

This one by Stephen has followed me in my thoughts rose
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David Autumns
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Re: Poetry - just poetry ....

It's the month of moon which rhymes with june - no got that wrong

So, for starters



The moon over Bolton Abbey half an hour ago

Moonlight Serenade

I stand at your gate
And the song that I sing is of moonlight
I stand and I wait
For the touch of your hand in the June night
The roses are sighing a moonlight serenade

The stars are aglow
And tonight how their light sets me dreaming
My love, do you know
That your eyes are like stars brightly beaming
I sing you and I bring you a moonlight serenade

Let us stray 'til break of day
In love's valley of dreams
Just you and I, a summer sky
A heavenly breeze kissing the trees

So don't let me wait
Come to me tenderly in the June night
I stand at your gate
And I sing you a song in the moonlight
A love song, my darling, a moonlight serenade
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alged
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Re: Poetry - just poetry ....

THKS to remind us that love song

Apart the Moon a legendary couple is still visible in our night skies in June:Jupiter and Venus

They’ll appear in your evening sky throughout June 2015, and they’ll be drawing closer together each evening!
Love and enjoy.
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bjbdbest
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Re: Poetry - just poetry ....

Dave - Such beautiful lyrics to a romantic, classical song! love struck

Moon River

Jupiter and Venus - how very interesting - thanks for the heads up, alged!
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NAP2614
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Re: Poetry - just poetry ....

Let Evening Come
By Jane Kenyon
Let the light of late afternoon
shine through chinks in the barn, moving
up the bales as the sun moves down.

Let the cricket take up chafing
as a woman takes up her needles
and her yarn. Let evening come.

Let dew collect on the hoe abandoned
in long grass. Let the stars appear
and the moon disclose her silver horn.

Let the fox go back to its sandy den.
Let the wind die down. Let the shed
go black inside. Let evening come.

To the bottle in the ditch, to the scoop
in the oats, to air in the lung
let evening come.

Let it come, as it will, and don’t
be afraid. God does not leave us
comfortless, so let evening come.
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bjbdbest
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Re: Poetry - just poetry ....

I find this poem by Jane Kenyon rather sad. There's double meaning to "Let Evening Come".
Realistically it denotes nature's order of things. She's aware that darkness decends but finds
some solace as her last stanza indicates. Day turns to night as life itself comes to an
end. Thus she faces the inevitable with acceptance and grace.

“The moving hand once having writ moves on. Nor all thy piety nor wit can lure it back
to cancel half a line.”
- Omas Khayyam
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David Autumns
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Re: Poetry - just poetry ....

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E6JUILG34aU

2 drifters off to to see the world
There's such a lot of world to see
we're after the same
rainbow's end
waiting round the bend
my Huckleberry friend
Moonriver and me


this evening
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[Edit 1 times, last edit by David Autumns at Jun 2, 2015 11:49:15 PM]
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