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Archive for February, 2013


Honey!

For those times
When you shrink the kids –
Small bouquet.

——————–

Set To Crow At Dawn

White rooster
With red cocky comb
Against black.

——————–

Phoenix

From ugly,
And life’s brokenness
Comes beauty.

——————–

Honey – photo by Luz Maria Espinoza at http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/miUGPlW/Little+yellow+flowers

Crow – photo by abcdz2000 at http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/2dRWtRy/cocky

Phoenix – photo by Ortonesque at http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/mieByEk/Life

——————–

* The haiku I write are lines of 3-5-3 syllables instead of 5-7-5.

See Haiku article here for explanation, if needed: https://thebardonthehill.wordpress.com/2011/08/08/haiku/

——————–

© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2013.

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          The Beautiful Snow

Oh! the snow, the beautiful snow,
Filling the sky and the earth below!
Over the housetops, over the street,
Over the heads of the people you meet:
                     Dancing,
                       Flirting,
                         Skimming along.
Beautiful snow! it can do nothing wrong.
Flying to kiss a fair lady’s cheek,
Clinging to lips in a frolicsome freak,
Beautiful snow from the heavens above,
Pure as an angel, gentle as love!

Oh! the snow, the beautiful snow!
How the flakes gather and laugh as they go
Whirling about in their maddening fun!
It plays to its glee with everyone.
                     Chasing,
                       Laughing,
                         Hurrying by;
It lights on the face and it sparkles the eye,
And even the dogs, with a bark and a bound,
Snap at the crystals that eddy around.
The town is alive and its heart in a glow,
To welcome the coming of beautiful snow! 

How the wild crowd goes swaying along!
Hailing each other with humor and song!
How the gay sledges, like meteors, flash by,
Bright for a moment, then lost to the eye;
                     Ringing,
                       Singing,
                         Dashing they go –
Over the crust of the beautiful snow –
Snow so pure when it falls from the sky,
To be trampled in mud by the crowd rushing by,
To be trampled and tracked by the thousands of feet,
Till it blends with the horrible filth in the street. 

Once I was pure as the snow – but I fell!
Fell, like the snowflakes, from heaven – to hell;
Fell, to be trampled as the filth of the street;
Fell, to be scoffed, to be spit on and beat;
                     Pleading,
                       Cursing,
                         Dreading to die,
Selling my soul to whoever would buy,
Dealing in shame for a morsel of bread,
Hating the living and fearing the dead.
Merciful God! have I fallen so low?
And yet I was once like this beautiful snow! 

Once I was fair as the beautiful snow,
With an eye like its crystals, a heart like its glow;
Once I was loved for my innocent grace,
Flattered and sought for the charms of my face!
                     Father,
                       Mother,
                         Sisters, all,
God and myself, I have lost by my fall.
The veriest wretch that goes shivering by
Will take a wide sweep lest I wander too nigh;
For all that is on or about me, I know,
There is nothing that’s pure but the beautiful snow. 

How strange it should be that this beautiful snow
Should fall on a sinner with nowhere to go!
How strange it would be, when the night comes again,
If the snow and the ice struck my desperate brain!
                      Fainting,
                        Freezing,
                          Dying alone;
Too wicked for prayer, too weak for my moan
To be heard in the streets of the crazy town,
Gone mad in the joy of the snow coming down;
To lie and to die in my terrible woe,
With a bed and a shroud of the beautiful snow.

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Legal Problems

I told my kids, when they grew up,
   They could not lawyers be,
Or else I’d disinherit them
   And no more would I see.

But I forgot to mention that
   They could not marry one.
But she, though lawyer, is okay –
    The one that’s wed my son.

————————————-

* She’s more than okay.  She’s terrific
like my other daughter-in-law.  Here’s
to Kevin and Betty, whose wedding I
performed 2/23/13.

————————————-

photo by Marja Flick-Buijs at http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/2dQ7Qo8/Wedding+cake+couple

————————————-

© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2013.

 

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English: Allan-a-Dale

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 


Robin Hood And Allan-A-Dale

Come listen to me, you gallants so free,
   All you that love mirth for to hear,
And I will tell you of a bold outlaw,
   That lived in Nottinghamshire.

As Robin Hood in the forest stood,
   All under the greenwood tree,
There was he aware of a brave young man,
   As fine as fine might be.

The youngster was clad in scarlet red,
   In scarlet fine and gay;
And he did frisk it over the plain,
   And chanted a roundelay.

As Robin Hood next morning stood
   Among the leaves so gay,
There did he espy the same young man
   Come drooping along the way.

The scarlet he wore the day before
   It was clean cast away;
And at every step he fetched a sigh,
   “Alas! and well-a-day!” 

Then stepped forth brave Little John,
   And Midge, the miller’s son;
Which made the young man bend his bow
   When as he see them come.

“Stand off! stand off!” the young man said,
   “What is your will with me?”
“You must come before our master straight,
   Under yon greenwood tree.”

And when he came bold Robin before,
   Robin asked him courteously,
“O, hast thou any money to spare,
   For my merry men and me?”

“I have no money,” the young man said,
   “But five shillings and a ring;
And that I have kept these seven long years,
    To have at my wedding. 

“Yesterday I should have married a maid,
   But she was from me ta’en,
And chosen to be an old knight’s delight,
   Whereby my poor heart is slain.” 

“What is thy name?” then said Robin Hood,
   “Come tell me, without any fail.”
“By the faith of my body,” then said the young man,
   “My name it is Allen-a-Dale.” 

“What wilt thou give me,” said Robin Hood,
   “In ready gold or fee,
To help thee to thy true-love again,
   And deliver her unto thee?” 

“I have no money,” then quoth the young man,
   “No ready gold nor fee,
But I will swear upon a book
   Thy true servant for to be.” 

“How many miles is it to thy true-love?
Come tell me without guile.”
“By the faith of my body,” then said the young man,
   “It is but five little mile.” 

Then Robin he hasted over the plain;
   He did neither stint nor lin,
Until he came unto the church
   Where Allen should keep his weddin’. 

“What dost thou here?” the bishop then said;
   “I prithee now tell unto me.”
“I am a bold harper,” quoth Robin Hood,
   “And the best in the north country.” 

“Oh welcome, oh welcome,” the bishop he said;
   “That music best pleaseth me.”
“You shall have no music,” quoth Robin Hood,
   “Till the bride and the bridegroom I see.” 

With that came in a wealthy knight,
   Which was both grave and old;
And after him a finikin lass,
   Did shine like glistering gold. 

“This is not fit match,” quoth Robin Hood,
   “that you do seem to make here;
For since we are come unto the church,
   The bride shall chuse her own dear.” 

Then Robin Hood put his horn to his mouth,
   And blew blasts two or three;
When four-and-twenty yeomen bold
   Came leaping over the lea. 

And when they came into the church-yard,
   Marching all in a row,
The first man was Allen-a-Dale,
   To give bold Robin his bow. 

“This is thy true love,” Robin he said.
   “Young Allen, as I hear say:
And you shall be married at this same time,
   Before we depart away.” 

“That shall not be,” the bishop he cried,
   “For thy word it shall not stand;
They shall be three times asked in the church,
   As the law is of our land.” 

Robin Hood pulled off the bishop’s coat,
   And put it upon Little John;
“By the faith of my body,” then Robin said,
   “This cloth doth make thee a man.” 

When Little John went into the quire,
   The people began to laugh;
He asked them seven times into church,
   Lest three times should not be enough. 

“Who gives me this maid?” then said Little John,
   Quoth Robin Hood, “That do I;
And he that takes her from Allen-a-Dale,
   Full dearly he shall her buy.” 

And then having ended this merry wedding,
   The bride looked as fresh as a queen;
And so they returned to the merry greenwood,
   Among the leaves so green.

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And Seaweed Nets

How about
Challenging starfish –
Volleyball?

——————–

Yes…And No

Animals?
No, they are cacti –
Prickly pair.

——————–

 

Into Thick Air

The suspense
As suspension fades
Into fog.

——————–

Seaweed – photo by Karunakar Rayker at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/2dkzq04/shells+on+the+beach

Yes – photo by Karunakar Rayker at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/mzSU2iK/Porcupine

Thick Air – photo by Ivo Bouwmans at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/nzdApbO/Golden+Gate+Bridge

——————–

* The haiku I write are lines of 3-5-3 syllables instead of 5-7-5.

See Haiku article here for explanation, if needed: https://thebardonthehill.wordpress.com/2011/08/08/haiku/

——————–

© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2013.

 

 

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Blow, Thou Winter Wind

(song from As You Like It)


Blow, blow, thou winter wind,
Thou art not so unkind
   As man’s ingratitude;
Thy tooth is not so keen,
Because thou art not seen,
   Although thy breath be rude.

Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly:
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly:
   Then, heigh-ho, the holly!
      This life is most jolly.
   Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky,
   That dost not bite so nigh
      As benefits forgot:
   Though thou the waters warp,
   Thy sting is not so sharp
      As friend remember’d not.

——————————————————-

photo by Andreas Krappweis at http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/nVIC8ke/Ride+in+Snow+Storm

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Winter Grass

The green green grass on winter’s ground
   Lone, flutters in the wind.
All else that grew is dried and browned,
   Asleep, to winter spend.

It stands against the winter’s freeze,
   A rare variety,
And waves, like fingers, in the breeze,
   Adapting happily.

It is the same when sin’s dark stain
   Spreads o’er the drying land,
Like rust and rot invade the grain,
   And saints, green, holy, stand.

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2013.

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No Truer Word

No truer word, save God’s, was ever spoken,
Than that the largest heart is soonest broken.

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On Every Human Thing

On love, on grief, on every human thing,
Time sprinkles Lethe’s water with his wing.

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*Lethe’s water – “afterworld river of forgetfulness”

 

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Crash, Tinkle, Shakespeare!

Rock breaks glass –
What light through yonder
Window breaks?

——————–

Are You A Buddhist?

Follower?
If you follow him
In eating?

——————–

It’s All Around

To hear no
Evil and see none
Is evil.

——————–

Shakespeare – photo by Jay Simmons at http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/dJlzzo/grunge

Buddhist – photo by Adrian van Leen at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/mVazy6u/chubby+Buddha

All Around – photo by Billy Frank Alexander at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/meMFCPe/Coloring+Stuff+4

——————–

* The haiku I write are lines of 3-5-3 syllables instead of 5-7-5.

See Haiku article here for explanation, if needed: https://thebardonthehill.wordpress.com/2011/08/08/haiku/

——————–

© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2013.

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From A Hundred Cribs

As Children bid the Guest “Good Night”
And then reluctant turn –
My flowers raise their pretty lips –
Then put their nightgowns on.

As children caper when they wake
Merry that it is Morn –
My flowers from a hundred cribs
Will peep, and prance again.

———————————————

photo by Michal Zacharzewski at http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/mhiHX76/Flowerbed

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