Peril of Hope by Robert Frost
It is right in there
Betwixt and between
The orchard bare
And the orchard green,
When the boughs are right
In a flowery burst
Of pink and white,
That we fear the worst.
For there’s not a clime
But at any cost
Will take that time
For a night of frost.
Have a blessed evening!
The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that, the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I –
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
A Prayer in Spring by Robert Frost
Oh, give us pleasure in the flowers to-day,
And give us not to think so far away
As the uncertain harvest; keep us here
All simply in the springing of the year.
Oh, give us pleasure in the orchard white,
Like nothing else by day, like ghosts by night;
And make us happy in the happy bees,
The swarm dilating round the perfect trees.
And make us happy in the darting bird
That suddenly above the bees is heard,
The meteor that thrusts in with needle bill,
And off a blossom in mid air stand still.
For this is love and nothing else is love,
The which it is reserved for God above
To sanctify to what far ends He will,
But which it only needs that we fulfill.
“Love is an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired” ~ Robert Frost
How I love this quote by Robert Frost. I think in some ways we all want that, to be irresistibly desired. Sadly sometimes though we put that desire for love in so many wrong places, I know I do that. I put it everywhere except where it belongs, with the God who loves my soul, with the God who saved me, with the God who does irresistibly love me. Who shows His love for me on a daily basis.
I snapped this shot yesterday morning, it was so beautiful, a bright sunrise through the trees. I love my drive to work, even on cold mornings, I can feel the warmth of the sun on my face, like a warm hand. You know like when your Dad cradles your face in his hands. I love that feeling, or in my case when my Grandpa does it. So much love for me, and so many sweet moments, especially after 15 days in the hospital when he didn’t really know who I was. But the day he started feeling better, he gave me the biggest hug and cradled my face in his hands and said I missed you. Love that! I can honestly say I have the best Grandpa, and I appreciate every moment I get with him. So may all of you be blessed with a special moment today and my you feel irresistibly desired.
Have a blessed day!
At The Sea-Side by Robert Louis Stevenson
When I was down beside the sea
A wooden spade they gave to me
To dig the sandy shore.
My holes were empty like a cup.
In every hole the sea came up,
Till it could come no more.
The Mist And All by Dixie Willson
I like the fall,
The mist and all.
I like the night owl’s
And wailing sound
Of wind around.
I like the gray
And bare, dead boughs
That coldly sway
Against my pane.
I like the rain.
I like to sit
And laugh at it-
My cozy fire a bit.
I like the fall-
The mist and all.
White Fields by James Stephens
In the winter time we go
Walking in the fields of snow;
Where there is no grass at all;
Where the top of every wall,
Every fence and every tree,
Is as white as white can be.
Pointing out the way we came,
Everyone of them the same-
All across the fields there be
Prints in silver filigree;
And our mothers always know,
By our footprints in the snow,
Where the children go.
The First Snow-Fall by James Russell Lowell
The snow had begun in the gloaming,
And busily all the night
Had been heaping field and highway
With a silence deep and white.
Every pine and fir and hemlock
Wore ermine too dear for an earl,
And the poorest twig on the elm tree
Was ridged inch deep with pearl.
A Book by Emily Dickinson
There is no frigate like a book
To take us lands away,
Nor any coursers like a page
Of prancing poetry.
This traverse may the poorest take
Without oppress of toll;
How frugal is the chariot
That bears a human soul!
A Late Walk by Robert Frost
When I go up through the mowed field,
The headless aftermath,
Smooth-laid like thatch with the heavy dew,
Half closes the garden path.
And when I come to the garden ground,
The whir of somber birds
Up from the tangle of withered weeds
Is sadder than any words.
A tree beside the wall stands bare,
But a leaf that lingered brown,
Disturbed, I doubt not, by my thought,
Comes softly rattling down.
I end not far from my going forth
By picking the faded blue
Of the last remaining aster flower
To carry again to you.