Why an Irish Catholic Priest was in an Anglican Church
[in the photo – L to R – Great Grandpa and GrandmaC, in behind them my GrandpaD, Aunt Jo, Uncle Burt and Aunt Lex (the bride and groom), GrandmD of course front and centre, no idea who that is over grandmaD’s shoulder, but beside him is Uncle Jack, and the next are also unknown, but I assume the guy with the collar was the minister] … Continue reading Why an Irish Catholic Priest was in an Anglican Church
Poets on Sunday: Keats
from ‘Bards of Passion and of Mirth, written on the Blank Page before Beaumont and Fletcher’s Tragi-Comedy ‘The Fair Maid of the Inn’ ‘ by John Keats Thus ye live on high, and then On the earth ye live again; And the souls ye left behind you Teach us, here, the way to find you, Where your other souls are joying, Never slumber’d, never cloying. … Continue reading Poets on Sunday: Keats
On A Country Walk
Difficult Times
Right now I am pretty much broke. However, I am fed, sheltered and loved and its good. I am however with glee looking forward to making my life more difficult. You just know when it’s right. So I’ve looked at couple of places, all small. One in particular last night is so charming, small as small, but I can work with that. Enough room for … Continue reading Difficult Times
The Essence of Bravery
I am plying the waters where poets dreamed and Mary made up monsters more easily we could reach the moon, as paddle that bohemian bay. again, the solitude of change and strange dreams of lands lie within that embrace; of these street sounds plying a new found beat enjoyed dreamed of yearned for from whence comes place nor person, but within the abstracted … Continue reading The Essence of Bravery
within the heart of nouns
rhythm of street sounds fade from place to post and new faces dance within an abstracted oasis whilst the watching world reflects itself in the heart of nouns that enigmatic one breaths to every dying norm a wasted toiling tethered over this divine misadventure we go drifting down on sidewalks as we gather in a darkened mind pulling alittle tighter a lock or two more … Continue reading within the heart of nouns
A Poetic Vocation
“The poet is an anomaly in our culture. The goal of our culture is money and power. And that’s not exactly what poetry is about. What is it about? That’s a hard question. It’s about anything the human mind and unconscious can produce. And that’s infinite.” [Stanley Kunitz] And living life within the confines set by our society is certainly not what writing is about, … Continue reading A Poetic Vocation
Good Things
Alas, my wait is at an end and this chick is gainfully EMPLOYED. WOOT WOOT !!!!! and HALLELUJAH When I was leaving the interview, the interviewer says “don’t worry, I was were you are 2 years ago. It will be ok.” Man. He was my age, actually, he said he chose my file because I graduated from High School the same year he did. Imagine … Continue reading Good Things
The Shedding Dog
Holy Cow Batman, you would not believe the fur ONE lone dog can shed. There are tumbleweeds of golden fluffy bits of Irish ALL over. Everyday I sweep, I brush, and in the morning I awake…to find more tumbleweeds of golden downy fluff floating down the hall. It is in every shot of every flower I take here at the Homestead, so I decided to … Continue reading The Shedding Dog
A Golden Hour
an entanglement with a golden adieu, you are a tattered ray inspired by Weekly Photo Challenge: The Golden Hour Continue reading A Golden Hour
A Blessing for Sunday
“Does It Pay” by Ella Wheeler Wilcox If one poor burdened toiler o’er life’s road, Who meets us by the way, Goes on less conscious of his galling load, Then life indeed, does pay. If we can show one troubled heart the gain, That lies alway in loss, Why, then, we too, are paid for all the pain Of bearing life’s hard cross. If some … Continue reading A Blessing for Sunday
The Value of a Peaceful Mind
When I was very young money was a foreign concept – which I suppose is common. For instance, I thought it was horrific that someone could die of cancer, just because there wasn’t enough money to save them. Or, that so many children died every day because they didn’t have enough food and would eventually die of starvation. It seemed somehow irrational that there was … Continue reading The Value of a Peaceful Mind
Abandoned, But Not Forgotten
I’ve become very attached to these youngsters, called British Home Children. I never suspected there were so many in our township, but for the last few days I’ve discovered 16, and have been following the trail of two in particular. Here is a bit of their story. In late August of 1895 two boys, ages 13 and 10, departed from Liverpool and crossed the Atlantic … Continue reading Abandoned, But Not Forgotten
by PaulaB 