Flower in the crannied wall,
I pluck you out of the crannies,
I hold you here, root and all, in my hand,
Little flower -but if I could understand
What you are, root and all, and all in all,
I should know what God and man is.
by
Alfred Tennyson
There is a Reaper, whose name is Death,
And, with his sickle keen,
He reaps the bearded grain at a breath,
And the flowers that grow between.
“Shall I have naught that is fair?” saith he;
“Have naught but the bearded grain?
Though the breath of these flowers is sweet to me,
I will give them all back again.”
He gazed at the flowers with tearful eyes,
He kissed their drooping leaves;
It was for the Lord of Paradise
He bound them in his sheaves.
“My Lord has need of these flowerets gay,”
The Reaper said, and smiled;
“Dear tokens of the earth are they,
Where he was once a child.”
“They shall all bloom in fields of light,
Transplanted by my care,
And saints, upon their garments white,
These sacred blossoms wear.”
And the mother gave, in tears and pain,
The flowers she most did love;
She knew she should find them all again
In the fields of light above.
O, not in cruelty, not in wrath,
The Reaper came that day;
‘T was an angel visited the green earth,
And took the flowers away
by
Henry Longfellow
Casting the line
Across the cool, dark, still water.
Watching it float in the air
So gracefully
Being caught by the wind
Pulling it farther
It slowly pushes it’s way
Down into the depths
Sinking…
Making small waves as it descends
Seeing beauty in it’s movement
Makes sitting here
Alone
In the quietness of the morning
Even more enjoyable…
by
Dawn Shirley
| She slammed the door I’d heard it before Every month she is cranky This is that time She’ll be back I’d been fishing But Honey I caught nine Calm down Honey When are you going to mow Off she went in a huff by Phil Smith |
When Fishermen get together,
truth they always tell,
about the one that got
away,
the one they kept as well.
They always saw the biggest fish
that ever lurked in weed.
It broke the line, bent the rod,
a trophy fish indeed.
But, like a one-armed fisherman,
it’s length he could not show.
He only saw the head of course,
the tail was far below.
Yet in mind’s eye this trophy fish,
is mounted on the wall,
It was the best catch of his life.
‘Tis not a Tale to Tall.
by
Don R. Wilkins
The little fish stayed in his pond by the ocean.
He didnt won’t to swim in the big blue open ocean,
he was afraid he might get eat by a big fish,
so he stayed in his little pond by the ocean.
Then one day a big wind came,
and blowed the little guy free,
now he must swim in that big blue open ocean,
along side of those big old fish,
poor little guy.
| A fish that drinks like a fish, that is a fish in excess A fish that fishes in troubled waters, that is a fish taking advantage of another fish in trouble A fish that fishes or cuts bait, well, to be or not to be, to retreat or to attack, that is the fishy question A fish that is neither fish nor fowl, is a fish that is neither one nor the other, lacking some convictions A fish out of water, is a fish feeling left out, no longer in his accustomed environment Do you have other fish to fry for now? Is there other matter requiring my attention? Poor fish, by RIC S. BASTASA |
Come along, come with me,
Take a dive in the deep blue sea.
Put on your gear, let’s explore
All the way to the ocean floor!
See that snail wrapped in curls?
Look! An oyster wearing pearls!
Watch the octopus oh so dark,
But don’t you dare to pet the shark!
Dive on down, seaward bound,
Motion in the ocean is all around!
Dive on down, seaward bound,
Motion in the ocean is all around!
Now we’re very far below,
The lantern fish are all aglow.
Is that a tiny shock you feel?
You just met an electric eel!
Giant blue whales start to stir,
Bigger than dinosaurs ever were!
Wave good-bye to the squid and sponge,
This is the end of our deep-sea plunge!
Dive on down, seaward bound,
Motion in the ocean is all around!
Dive on down, seaward bound,
Motion in the ocean is all around!