The soul goes shielded

>>>>++<<<<

G r o u n d s   f o r   G r i e f

Elmwood Cemetery

Charlotte, North Carolina

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Roses can wound,
But not from having thorns they do most harm;
Often the night gives, starry-sheen or moon'd,
Deep in the soul alarm.
And it hath been deep within my heart like fear,
Girl, when you are near.
The mist of sense,
Wherein the soul goes shielded, can divide,
And she must cringe and be ashamed, and wince,
Not in appearance hide
Of rose or girl from the blazing mastery
Of bared Eternity.

> Lascelles Abercrombie <

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Happy Friday

A second place to dwell

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S t e p   R i g h t   U p

Decatur Cemetery

Decatur, Georgia

>>>>++<<<<

How calmly does the olive branch
Observe the sky, begin to blanch
Without a cry, without a prayer
With no betrayal of despair

Some time while light obscures the tree
The zenith of its life will be
Gone past forever, and from thence
A second history will commence

A chronicle no longer gold
A bargaining with mist and mold
And finally the broken stem
The plummeting to earth, and then

An intercourse not well designed
For beings of a golden kind
Whose native green must arch above
The earth’s obscene corrupting love

And still the ripe fruit and the branch
Observe the sky, begin to blanch
Without a cry, without a prayer
With no betrayal of despair

Oh courage! Could you not as well
Select a second place to dwell
Not only in that golden tree
But in the frightened heart of me.

> Tennessee Williams <

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Happy Thursday

After the locust's song

>>>>++<<<<

B e n c h e d

Trinity Episcopal Church

Columbia, South Carolina

>>>>++<<<<

The adolescent night, breath of the town,
Porchswings and whispers, maple leaves unseen
Deploying moonlight quieter than a man dead
After the locust’s song. These homes were mine
And are not now forever, these on the steps
Children I think removed to many places,
Lost among hushed years, and so strangely known.

This business is well ended. If in the dark
The firefly made his gleam and sank therefrom,
Yet someone’s hand would have him, the wet grass
Bed him no more. From corners of the lawn
The dusk-white dresses flutter and are past.
Before our bed time there were things to say,
Remembering tree-bark, crickets, and the first star …

After, and as the sullenness of time
Went on from summer, here in a land alien
Made I my perfect fears and flower of thought:
Sleep being no longer swift in the arms of pain,
Revisitations are convenient with a cough,
And there is something I would say again
If I had not forever, if there were time.

> Robert Fitzgerald <

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Happy Wednesday

Only offered once

>>>>++<<<<

L i g h t   R e i g n

Tiger Lilies 2017

Columbia, South Carolina

>>>>++<<<<

Nothing can ever happen twice.
In consequence, the sorry fact is
that we arrive here improvised
and leave without the chance to practice.

Even if there is no one dumber,
if you’re the planet’s biggest dunce,
you can’t repeat the class in summer:
this course is only offered once.

No day copies yesterday,
no two nights will teach what bliss is
in precisely the same way,
with precisely the same kisses.

One day, perhaps some idle tongue
mentions your name by accident:
I feel as if a rose were flung
into the room, all hue and scent.

The next day, though you’re here with me,
I can’t help looking at the clock:
A rose? A rose? What could that be?
Is it a flower or a rock?

Why do we treat the fleeting day
with so much needless fear and sorrow?
It’s in its nature not to stay:
Today is always gone tomorrow.

With smiles and kisses, we prefer
to seek accord beneath our star,
although we’re different (we concur)
just as two drops of water are.

> Wislawa Szymborska <

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Happy Tuesday

What is this talked-of mystery

>>>>++<<<<

A   G o o d   R e a d

Bush River Memorial Gardens

Columbia, South Carolina

>>>>++<<<<

The surest thing there is is we are riders,

And though none too successful at it, guiders,

Through everything presented, land and tide

And now the very air, of what we ride.

What is this talked-of mystery of birth

But being mounted bareback on the earth?

We can just see the infant up astride,

His small fist buried in the bushy hide.

There is our wildest mount -- a headless horse.

But though it runs unbridled off its course,

And all our blandishments would seem defied,

We have ideas yet that we haven't tried.

> Robert Frost <

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Happy Monday

A blessed day is coming

>>>>++<<<<

G l o r y   B e

Southland Memorial Gardens

West Columbia, South Carolina

>>>>++<<<<

Face to face with Christ my Savior

Face to face, what will it be

When with rapture I behold Him

Jesus Christ Who died for me.

Face to face I shall behold Him

Far beyond the starry sky

Face to face in all His glory

I shall see Him by and by.

Only faintly now I see Him

With the darkened veil between

But a blessed day is coming

When His glory shall be seen.

What rejoicing in His presence

When are banished grief and pain

Death is swallowed up in vict'ry

And the dark things shall be plain.

Face to face, O blissful moment

Face to face to see and know

Face to face with my Redeemer

Jesus Christ Who loved me so.

Face to face I shall behold Him

Far beyond the starry sky

Face to face in all His glory

I shall see Him by and by.

> Carrie E. Breck <

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For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face:

now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.

I Corinthians 13:12

>>>>++<<<<

Happy Sunday

Life's sweet calculations

>>>>++<<<<

W e a r   B e i g e   A n d   B l e n d

Green Mount Cemetery

Baltimore, Maryland

>>>>++<<<<

Upon Concluded Lives

There's nothing cooler falls --

Than Life's sweet Calculations --

The mixing Bells and Palls --

Makes Lacerating Tune --

To Ears the Dying Side --

'Tis Coronal -- and Funeral --

Saluting -- in the Road --

> Emily Dickinson <

>>>>++<<<<

Happy Angel Day (tomorrow) to Emily Dickinson

1830 - 1886

>>>>++<<<<

Happy Saturday

Shine thy best

>>>>++<<<<

H e a v y   L i g h t

Elmwood Cemetery

Columbia, South Carolina

>>>>++<<<<

My God -- He sees thee --

Shine thy best --

Fling up thy Balls of Gold

Till every Cubit play with thee

And every Crescent hold --

Elate the Acre at his feet --

Upon his Atom swim --

Oh Sun -- but just a Second's right

In thy long Race with him!

> Emily Dickinson <

>>>>++<<<<

Happy Friday :: Happy Weekend

How cold I looked

>>>>++<<<<

I n e z

Graceland Cemetery

Chicago, Illinois

>>>>++<<<<

They won't frown always -- some sweet Day

When I forget to tease --

They'll recollect how cold I looked

And how I just said "Please."

Then They will hasten to the Door

To call the little Girl

Who cannot Thank them for the Ice

That filled the lisping full.

> Emily Dickinson <

>>>>++<<<<

Happy Thursday

The light His action

>>>>++<<<<

B o a r d   R o o m

Prince Brothers :: Main Street

Abbeville, South Carolina

>>>>++<<<<

All Circumstances are the Frame

In which His Face is set --

All Latitudes exist for His

Sufficient Continent --

The Light His Action, and the Dark

The Leisure of His Will --

In Him Existence serve or set

A Force illegible.

> Emily Dickinson <

>>>>++<<<<

Happy Wednesday