A Song of Peace - Lloyd Stone
This is my song, Oh God of all the nations, A song of peace for lands afar and mine. This is my home, the country where my heart is; Here are my hopes, my dreams, my sacred shrine. But other hearts in other lands are beating, With hopes and dreams as true and high as mine. My country’s skies are bluer than the ocean, And sunlight beams on cloverleaf and pine. But other lands have...
Litany - Billy Collins
You are the bread and the knife, The crystal goblet and the wine... -Jacques Crickillon You are the bread and the knife, the crystal goblet and the wine. You are the dew on the morning grass and the burning wheel of the sun. You are the white apron of the baker, and the marsh birds suddenly in flight. However, you are not the wind in the orchard, the plums on the counter, or the...
Bats are creepy; bats are scary; Bats do not seem sanitary; Bats in dismal caves keep cozy; Bats remind us of Lugosi; Bats have webby wings that fold up; Bats from ceilings hang down rolled up; Bats when flying undismayed are; Bats are careful; bats use radar; Bats at nighttime at their best are; Bats by Batman unimpressed are! —Frank Jacobs
Since you were asking: The Door into Starlight |... →
This would be the fourth book in one of the absolute best series I have ever read, and when you consider how much I’ve read, that means a lot. If you haven’t read The Door into Fire, I urge you to do so. If you have, then you know what this chance means… Please repost!!
AN OPEN LETTER TO ALL WRITERS USING THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE THE POSSESSIVE FORM OF...– james_nicoll Amen.
Please Bury Me in the Library
Please bury me in the library in the clean, well-lighted stacks Of Novels, History, Poetry, right next to the Paperbacks, Where the Kids’ Books dance with True Romance and the Dictionary dozes. Please bury me in the library with a dozen long-stemmed proses. Way back by a rack of Magazines, I won’t be sad too often, If they bury me in the library with Bookworms in my coffin. ...
Dinah in Heaven - Rudyard Kipling
She did not know that she was dead But, when the pang was o’er, Sat down to wait her Master’s tread Upon the Golden Floor, With ears full-cock and anxious eyes, Impatiently resigned; But ignorant that Paradise Did not admit her kind. There was one step along the Stair That led to Heaven’s Gate; And, till she heard it, her affair Was — she explained —...