Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?

Thou art more lovely and more temperate:

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,

And summer’s lease hath all too short a date;Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,

And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;

And every fair from fair sometime declines,

By chance or nature’s changing course untrimm'd;

But thy eternal summer shall not fade,

Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st;

Nor shall death brag thou wander’st in his shade,

When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st:

So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,

So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.                                       

 WilliamShakespeare

Seggie. Thanks, Fleur. Loved that poem. I had forgotten some of the words. Ta muchly.

THE SHEARERS WIFE

Before the glare o’ dawn I rise

To milk the sleepy cows, an’ shake

The droving dust from tired eyes,

Look round the rabbit traps, then bake

The children’s bread.

There’s hay to stook, an’ beans to hoe,

An’ ferns to cut in the scrub below,

Women must work, when men must go

Shearing from shed to shed.

I patch an’ darn, now evening comes,

An’ tired I am with labour sore,

Tired o’ the bush, the cows, the gums,

Tired, but we must dree for long months more

What no tongue tells.

The moon is lonely in the sky,

Lonely the bush, an’ lonely I

Stare down the track no horse draws nigh,

An’ start . . . at the cattle bells.

                         by Louis Esson

A May Night in the Mountains

’Tis a wonderful time when these hours begin,
These long ‘small hours’ of night,
When grass is crisp, and the air is thin,
And the stars come close and bright.
The moon hangs caught in a silvery veil,
From clouds of a steely grey,
And the hard, cold blue of the sky grows pale
In the wonderful Milky Way. 
There is something wrong with this star of ours,
A mortal plank unsound,
That cannot be charged to the mighty powers
Who guide the stars around.
Though man is higher than bird or beast,
Though wisdom is still his boast,
He surely resembles Nature least,
And the things that vex her most. 

Oh, say, some muse of a larger star,
Some muse of the Universe,
If they who people those planets far
Are better than we, or worse?
Are they exempted from deaths and births,
And have they greater powers,
And greater heavens, and greater earths,
And greater Gods than ours? 

Are our lies theirs, and our truth their truth,
Are they cursed for pleasure’s sake,
Do they make their hells in their reckless youth
Ere they know what hells they make?
And do they toil through each weary hour
Till the tedious day is o’er,
For food that gives but the fleeting power
To toil and strive for more? 

Beautiful words folks. Lovely to speak or sing words as those posted by everyone.

Nasty words better to allow to be "blowin" in the wind.

______________________________

Just what's in my heart:) (I am not good at Poetry)  .sorry.

______________________________

Joy to me is sitting on my porch,

looking up to the top of the Street light,

to see a darling ordinary looking bird,

singing beyond beautifully,

giving me joy beyond belief,

and so I start my day.

This most poignant poem, written with a specific purpose in WW11 and known by just about all our age group is so very  meaningful but while sad is also giving:-

A Code Poem For The French Resistance

The life that I have is all that I have

And the life that I have is yours.

The love that I have of the life that I have Is yours and yours and yours.

A sleep I shall have A rest I shall have,

Yet death will be but a pause,

For the peace of my years in the long green grass

Will be yours and yours and yours.

-- Leo Marks used by Violette Szabo

ohhh - thought it was "The End" my my - how things change around here ..................blink and you miss it! 

Thank you for your lovely spiritual blessing Phyl...and some words to go wth it:

                       When peace like a river, 

                       Attendeth my way

                       When sorrows like sea billows roll,

                       Whatever my lot,

                       Thou hast taught me to say

                       It is well, it is well, with my soul.

....lovely - :-).........................brings tears to my eyes .....

Come Touch His Cheek

This child of mine you stare at so,
Please come closer so you will know
Just who my child is and what I see
when those sweet eyes stare back at me
I see no limits to my child's life
Although I know
It will be filled with strife,
I'm hoping that doors will open each day
I'm praying that kindness
will come his way
You look frightened?
You tremble with fear?
Come, come closer
touch him my dear
Touch his cheek so soft
so sweet
Be one of those people
he needs to meet
Someone who will look
and hopefully see
The skill, the talent
The ability
Please come closer
You don't have to speak
Come a little closer
Just touch his cheek
And when you do 
you will see
this sweet, sweet child
is no different 
than you or me

  Garry Shulman

This poem has a very special place in my heart...it was hung in my office at a place where I volunteered for children with disabilities