And diamonds jumbled on

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T i l l   I ' m   B l u e   i n   t h e   F a c e

Metalmorphosis

Charlotte, North Carolina

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I know where Wells grow -- Droughtless Wells --

Deep dug -- for Summer days --

Where Mosses go no more away --

And Pebble -- safely plays --

It's made of Fathoms -- and a Belt --

A Belt of jagged Stone --

Inlaid with Emerald -- half way down --

And Diamonds -- jumbled on --

It has no Bucket -- Were I rich

A Bucket I would buy --

I'm often thirsty -- but my lips

Are so high up -- You see --

I read in an Old Fashioned Book

That People "thirst no more" --

The Wells have Buckets to them there --

It must mean that -- I'm sure --

Shall We remember Parching -- then?

Those Waters sound so grand --

I think a little Well -- like Mine --

Dearer to understand --

= Emily Dickinson =

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Happy Saturday

Ever near us though unseen

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C o s t u m e   C h a n g e

Edgewood Cemetery

Knoxville, Tennessee

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There is no death! The stars go down

To rise upon some other shore,

And bright in heaven's jeweled crown

They shine for evermore.

There is no death! The dust we tread

Shall change benath the summer showers

To golden grain or mellow fruit

Or rainbow tinted flowers.

There is no death! The leaves may fall,

The flowers may fade and pass away --

They only wait through wintry hours,

The coming of the May.

The bird-like voice, whose joyous tones

Made glad this scene of sin and strife,

Sings now an everlasting song

Amid the tree of life.

And ever near us, though unseen,

The dear immortal spirits tread;

For all the boundless universe

Is Life -- there are no dead!

= John Luckey McCreery =

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Happy Friday

If love is a labor

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P o r t r a i t   o f   M e l a n i e

Columbia, South Carolina

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Am I loud and clear, or am I breaking up?

Am I still your charm, or am I just bad luck?

Are we getting closer, or are we just getting more lost?

I'll show you mine if you show me yours first

Let's compare scars, I'll tell you whose is worse

Let's unwrite these pages and replace them with our own words

We live on front porches and swing life away,

We get by just fine here on minimum wage

If love is a labor I'll slave till the end,

I won't cross these streets until you hold my hand

I've been here so long, I think that it's time to move

The winter's so cold, summer's over too soon

Let's pack our bags and settle down where palm trees grow

I've got some friends, some that I hardly know

But we've had some times, I wouldn't trade for the world

We chase these days down with talks of the places that we will go

We live on front porches and swing life away,

We get by just fine here on minimum wage

If love is a labor I'll slave till the end,

I won't cross these streets until you hold my hand

Until you hold my hand

I'll show you mine if you show me yours first

Let's compare scars, I'll tell you whose is worse

Let's unwrite these pages and replace them with our own words

We live on front porches and swing life away,

We get by just fine here on minimum wage

If love is a labor I'll slave to the end,

I won't cross these streets until you hold my hand

Swing life away

Swing life away

Swing life away

Swing life away

= Barnes / Chasse / Principe / Mcilrath =

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Happy Thursday

And the sea-gulls flying

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H o r i z o n t a l   H o l d

Myrtle Beach, South Carolina

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I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,

And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;

And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,

And a grey mist on the sea's face, and a grey dawn breaking,

I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide

Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;

And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,

And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls flying.

I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,

To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's like a whetted knife;

And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow rover,

And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.

= John Masefield =

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Happy Wednesday

Ankle-deep in light

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R a y s   t h e   R o o f

Old Sheldon Church Ruins

Yemassee, South Carolina

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Light has killed the winter and all dark dreams.

Now winds live all in light,

Light has come down to earth and blossoms here,

And we have golden minds.

From out the long shade of a road high-bankt,

I came on shelving fields;

And from my feet cascading,

Streaming down the land,

Flickering lavish of daffodils flowed and fell;

Like sunlight on a water thrill'd with haste,

Such clear pale quivering flame,

But a flame even more marvellously yellow.

And all the way to Ryton here I walkt

Ankle-deep in light.

It was as if the world had just begun;

And in a mind new-made

Of shadowless delight

My spirit drank my flashing senses in,

And gloried to be made

Of young mortality.

No darker joy than this

Golden amazement now

Shall dare intrude into our dazzling lives:

Stain were it now to know

Mists of sweet warmth and deep delicious color,

Those lovable accomplices that come

Befriending languid hours.

= Lascelles Abercrombie =

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Happy Tuesday