Oasis.

[Namaste]

But Not Forgotten -- Dorothy Parker

I think, no matter where you stray,
That I shall go with you a way.
Though you may wander sweeter lands,
You will not soon forget my hands,
Nor yet the way I held my head,
Nor all the tremulous things I said.
You still will see me, small and white
And smiling, in the secret night,
And feel my arms about you when
The day comes fluttering back again.
I think, no matter where you be,
You'll hold me in your memory
And keep my image, there without me,
By telling later loves about me.

 

[Namaste]

Interlude -- Amy Lowell

When I have baked white cakes
And grated green almonds to spread on them;
When I have picked the green crowns from the strawberries
And piled them, cone-pointed, in a blue and yellow platter;
When I have smoothed the seam of the linen I have been working;
What then?
To-morrow it will be the same:
Cakes and strawberries,
And needles in and out of cloth
If the sun is beautiful on bricks and pewter,
How much more beautiful is the moon,
Slanting down the gauffered branches of a plum-tree;
The moon
Wavering across a bed of tulips;
The moon,
Still,
Upon your face.
You shine, Beloved,
You and the moon.
But which is the reflection?
The clock is striking eleven.
I think, when we have shut and barred the door,
The night will be dark
Outside.

 

[Namaste]

The Ballad Of Reading Gaol -- Oscar Wilde (excerpt)

Yet each man kills the thing he loves,
By each let this be heard,
Some do it with a bitter look,
Some with a flattering word,
The coward does it with a kiss,
The brave man with a sword!

Some kill their love when they are young,
And some when they are old;
Some strangle with the hands of Lust,
Some with the hands of Gold:
The kindest use a knife, because
The dead so soon grow cold.

Some love too little, some too long,
Some sell, and others buy;
Some do the deed with many tears,
And some without a sigh:
For each man kills the thing he loves,
Yet each man does not die.

 

[Namaste]

Wuthering Heights -- Emily Bronte

My love for Linton is like the foliage in the woods; time will change it, I'm well aware, as winter changes the trees.

My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath -- a source of little visible delight, but necessary.

Nelly, I am Heathcliff! He's always, always in my mind-- not as a pleasure, any more than I am always a pleasure to myself, but as my own being.

 

[Namaste]

Wuthering Heights -- Emily Bronte

...Catherine Earnshaw, may you not rest as long as I am living!

You said I killed you -- haunt me, then! The murdered do haunt their murderers. I believe -- I know -- that ghosts have wandered on earth.

Be with me always -- take any form -- drive me mad! Only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you!

Oh God! It is unutterable! I cannot live without my life! I cannot live without my soul!

 

[Gusty Wind]

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[Gusty Wind]

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[Gusty Wind]

Spring...

 

[Namaste]

A Thousand Years -- Sting

A thousand years, a thousand more
A thousand times a millions doors to eternity
I may have lived a thousand lives, a thousand times
An endless turning starway climbs
To a tower of souls
If it takes another thousand years, a thousand wars,
The towers rise to numberless floors in space
I could shed another million tears, a million breaths,
A million names but only one truth to face

A million roads, a million fears
A million suns, ten million years of uncertainty
I could speak a million lies, a million songs,
A million rights, a million wrongs in this balace of time
But if there was a single truth, a single light
A single thought, asingular touch of grace

I still love you
I still want you
A thousand times the mysteries unfold themselves
Like galaxies in my head
I may be numberless, I may be innocent
I may know many things, I may be ignorant
Or I could ride with kings and conquer many lands
Or win this world at cards and let it slip my hands
I could be cannon food, destroyed a thousand times
Reborn as fortune's child to judge another's crimes
Or war this pilgrim's cloak, or be a common thief
I've kept this single faith, I have but one belief

I still love you
I still want you
A thousand times these mysteries unfold themselves
Like galaxies in my head
On and on the mysteries unwind themselves
Eternities still unsaid
'Til you love me

 

[Namaste]

Hello Gusty

 

[Gusty Wind]

Hello Gusty

Hello Namaste ...

WOW! Thank you!!

*````

 

[Gusty Wind]

Re: A Thousand Years -- Sting

A thousand years, a thousand more
A thousand times a millions doors to eternity
I may have lived a thousand lives, a thousand times
An endless turning starway climbs
To a tower of souls
If it takes another thousand years, a thousand wars,
The towers rise to numberless floors in space
I could shed another million tears, a million breaths,
A million names but only one truth to face

A million roads, a million fears
A million suns, ten million years of uncertainty
I could speak a million lies, a million songs,
A million rights, a million wrongs in this balace of time
But if there was a single truth, a single light
A single thought, asingular touch of grace

I still love you
I still want you
A thousand times the mysteries unfold themselves
Like galaxies in my head
I may be numberless, I may be innocent
I may know many things, I may be ignorant
Or I could ride with kings and conquer many lands
Or win this world at cards and let it slip my hands
I could be cannon food, destroyed a thousand times
Reborn as fortune's child to judge another's crimes
Or war this pilgrim's cloak, or be a common thief
I've kept this single faith, I have but one belief

I still love you
I still want you
A thousand times these mysteries unfold themselves
Like galaxies in my head
On and on the mysteries unwind themselves
Eternities still unsaid
'Til you love me

I missed your post!..

 

[Gusty Wind]

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[Gusty Wind]

[No message]

 

[Gusty Wind]

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[Gusty Wind]

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[Gusty Wind]

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[Gusty Wind]

Great thread to bump! Have A great day Namaste!

 

[Gusty Wind]

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[Gusty Wind]

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[Gusty Wind]

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[Gusty Wind]

[No message]

 

[Gusty Wind]

Namaste... Have a great a day.

 

[Namaste]

You too, Gusty Wind.

Sometimes chatter is not necessary.

Somtimes the reassuring comfort of the written word and the silence of contemplation is enough

 

[Namaste]

Love Song -- Dorothy Parker

My own dear love, he is strong and bold
And he cares not what comes after.
His words ring sweet as a chime of gold,
And his eyes are lit with laughter.
He is jubilant as a flag unfurled --
Oh, a girl, she'd not forget him.
My own dear love, he is all my world --
And I wish I'd never met him.

My love, he's mad, and my love, he's fleet,
And a wild young wood-thing bore him!
The ways are fair to his roaming feet,
And the skies are sunlit for him.
As sharply sweet to my heart he seems
As the fragrance of acacia.
My own dear love, he is all my dreams --
And I wish he were in Asia.

My love runs by like a day in June,
And he makes no friends of sorrows.
He'll tread his galloping rigadoon
In the pathway of the morrows.
He'll live his days where the sunbeams start,
Nor could storm or wind uproot him.
My own dear love, he is all my heart, --
And I wish somebody'd shoot him.