Mastodon

Poetry

  • “Death Is Nothing At All”

    by Henry Scott Holland

    Death is nothing at all.
    It does not count.
    I have only slipped away into the next room.
    Nothing has happened.
    Everything remains exactly as it was.
    I am I, and you are you,
    and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged.
    Whatever we were to each other, that we are still.
    Call me by the old familiar name.
    Speak of me in the easy way which you always used.
    Put no difference into your tone.
    Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.
    Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together.
    Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.
    Let my name be ever the household word that it always was.
    Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it.
    Life means all that it ever meant.
    It is the same as it ever was.
    There is absolute and unbroken continuity.
    What is this death but a negligible accident?
    Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?
    I am but waiting for you, for an interval,
    somewhere very near,
    just round the corner.
    All is well.
    Nothing is hurt; nothing is lost.
    One brief moment and all will be as it was before.
    How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!
  • Alone

    A artist rendition of a raven. Artist unknown. Please contact as I would like to credit you.

    And all I lov’d—I lov’d alone—

  • Don't Let Her Down

    Find the one who makes your heart smile. Unknown creator

    A poem by J. Raymond 

  • Great insight on Energy

    Energy Photo via Pexels by Pixabay-459740

    Thanks Crystal for pointing me to this nugget.  

  • I want to show you something

    Heart in hands - Photo by Engin Akyurt from Pexels

    This is my heart. Here, you can hold it while I explain. Just…be gentle, OK?

  • I'm so sorry to wake you up

    Night sky - Photo by James Wheeler from Pexels

    This beautiful poem was shared with me this morning by my dear friend Gina. Even in the first few paragraphs it hit me deep and I cried. 

    We travel through our lives each of us on our own path. As they say, "not all of those paths were paved". For some it seems few of them were. May this sooth your bumps and bruises as it did mine. 

  • Sometimes a Wild God

    Abstract head on hill that looks like a tree and made from all the creatures. Art: Andrew Ferez

    Sometimes a Wild God

  • The Celebration Of Your Life

    Setting sun

    A poem by

  • They always have something to say.

    She sat at the back...

    A poem by Becky Hemsley

  • Tread Softly on my Dreams

    Orange California poppies

    So I was doing some backups and file cleanups and found this poem saved...


    HAD I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,

    Enwrought with golden and silver light,

    The blue and the dim and the dark cloths

    Of night and light and the half light,

    I would spread the cloths under your feet:

    But I, being poor, have only my dreams;

    I have spread my dreams under your feet;

    Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

    W.B. Yeats