Wednesday, 26 September 2012

The Solitary Reaper






BEHOLD her, single in the field,
 
  Yon solitary Highland Lass! 
Reaping and singing by herself; 
  Stop here, or gently pass! 
Alone she cuts and binds the grain,         
And sings a melancholy strain; 
O listen! for the Vale profound 
Is overflowing with the sound. 
 
No Nightingale did ever chaunt 
  More welcome notes to weary bands  
Of travellers in some shady haunt, 
  Among Arabian sands: 
A voice so thrilling ne'er was heard 
In spring-time from the Cuckoo-bird, 
Breaking the silence of the seas  
Among the farthest Hebrides. 
 
Will no one tell me what she sings?— 
  Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow 
For old, unhappy, far-off things, 
  And battles long ago:  
Or is it some more humble lay, 
Familiar matter of to-day? 
Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain, 
That has been, and may be again? 
 
Whate'er the theme, the Maiden sang  
  As if her song could have no ending; 
I saw her singing at her work, 
  And o'er the sickle bending;— 
I listen'd, motionless and still; 
And, as I mounted up the hill,  
The music in my heart I bore, 
Long after it was heard no more.

-William Wordsworth

Monday, 24 September 2012

Am I a fool?



Am I a fool to go?

To watch you turn and wave one final time?
To let your hand slip from mine?

Am I a fool to think I am old?

To write and talk on my own?
To act as though I am fully grown?

Am I a fool to believe I could manage?

To walk with my own strength along the path?
To hide all my tears with a laugh?

Am I a fool to assume it will be all right?

To indulge in the silence of a never-ending night?
To keep it within and forfeit the light?

Am I a fool to grow and learn and change?
And leave your arms to exchange our world of comfort to pain?

Please tell me childhood will return and with it sweet days and sultry May's.

Please tell me laughter will crackle once more on the lawn, and the birds will wake before the dawn.

Please tell me I can live it all over again with you, and through it all, still be to you, so small?

I love you mummy, really,

I do.


- Joanna Grace



Friday, 14 September 2012

Ageless




"When I Dream, I am Ageless."

-Elizabeth Coatsworth


O River under the Little Red Bridge





Dear Turning River under the Little Red Bridge, I will miss your face.
I will long for your sweet calming tunes.
I will look for the Sand Martins that touch their feathery breasts upon your silver light.
I will look for the river weed's green flowing mermaid hair under the arch of your stone,
But I will find it no more,
I am leaving you.

I will walk down the sandy path and stop once more under the light of the setting sun.
As I watch the last remnants of the day,
My eyes fill with water like your own sad eyes, 
O river,
Tell me I shall return to you once more!

I will trace the gnarled bark of the little shadowing oak.
I will stop beside the huffing heifers and watch them blink their blond eyelashes.
I will feel the chill of the moody South East wind.

And although I shall be many miles from you,
I shall still hear the gentle trickle of your winding bends and turns,
Like the flickers of my mind, 
You belong.
I with you and you with I.

O Little Red Bridge, 
There, where many have walked,
There, where I have cried slow tears,
There, upon your way,
I have laughed and hoped,
Dreamed and sighed,
Delighted and searched,
And hungered for my peace to match your own.

Dear Turning River under the Little Red Bridge,
You will always and forever be my home.


-Joanna Grace






A New Chapter




Tomorrow I will leave my family and go to live in a city. 
I will live there for three years to complete my degree in Theatre and Performance. 
I wish I could take the gathered faces in my heart along with me, they are unlike anyone in all of time.
 They are my family and I love them with all my being.

New ideas, new horizons, new stepping stone will cross my path.
New people, new voices, new choices I have to make.
But I will never forget who I am.
I will never stop being me.

I hope and pray with all my might that we will all do fine.
That each dear child that is reaching their own decisions today and tomorrow will be blessed with peace.
Life is full of choices.
Tomorrow will pass and so will three years, and next a hundred of them,
But today is all we have now, so treasure every moment!

God bless you all who read this post! 
You are dear and precious and beautiful.

Hug someone today, reach out and touch her hand.
Offer your shoulder for his head.
No one else's, but yours.

May laughter and contentedness follow you all the days of your life.

We shall start a new chapter my friends,
Indeed we shall.




Thursday, 6 September 2012

No need to say anything...


"Oh, the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person; having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words, but to pour them all out, just as they are, chaff and grain together, knowing that a faithful hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping, and then, with a breath of kindness, blow the rest away."

- George Elliot