Posts Tagged ‘joy’

The way a crow
Shook down on me
The dust of snow
From a hemlock tree 

Has given my heart
A change of mood
And saved some part
Of a day I had rued.


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Music to hear, why hear’st thou music sadly?
Sweets with sweets war not, joy delights joy.
Why lov’st thou that which thou receiv’st not gladly,
Or else receiv’st with pleasure thine annoy?
If the true concord of well-tuned sounds,
By unions married, do offend thine ear,
They do but sweetly chide thee, who confounds
In singleness the parts that thou shouldst bear.
Mark how one string, sweet husband to another,
Strikes each in each by mutual ordering;
Resembling sire and child and happy mother,
Who, all in one, one pleasing note do sing;
Whose speechless song, being many, seeming one,
Sings this to thee: ‘Thou single wilt prove none.”


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I was an “in and out”- an “in” to see
A friend, a broken one who had to mend,
An “in” extending heartfelt sympathy,
An “out” when my short visit came to end.

Then through the long and sterile hall I went,
Took elevator down its narrow chute;
Watched doors too slowly open post-descent
As if two snails were ending a dispute;

And then the lobby to the sliding doors
That opened to the world both bright and free
Where sky’s the limit for the bird that soars,
Where men can sample from a panoply.

Then from a hall of the hospital maze,
A nurse rolled forth a lady in a chair,
Wheeled from a room where she had been for days
Pajama-ed like a hibernating bear.

And she’d been holed up in a tiny den
Kept there because she was not well or whole.
She was no “in and out” like me, but “in”,
And in and in and in a cubbyhole.

And though her face was pale, there was a light
Upon it, both from out and from within
As she left dark days for the one that’s bright
For sun that would bring color to her skin.

I could, with quicker pace, have walked ahead.
Instead, I slowed to be an audience
And walk behind the one who’d left her bed
To take in life the place that she had once.

My wish: to see a sheltered flower bloom,
To watch one give her hellos and goodbyes,
One like a baby bursting from the womb
Who meets the teeming, waiting world and cries.


© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2016.

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Whiten And Brighten The Wash

To work, hang out clothes,
With rainbows.




Bath Necessities

The water,
The towel, rag, soap
And, yes – me!




Sunrise, Sunset

New day joy
Or thanksgiving for
Day now past.


Wash – photo by Copta at

Bath – photo by Steve Woods at

Sunset – photo by Sanja Gjenero at http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/mhATwvQ/at+sunset+3


* 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, 2014.



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Stoney End Brittany Double-Strung Lap Harp in ...

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

             The Master-Player

 An old, worn harp that had been played
Till all its strings were loose and frayed,
Joy, Hate, and Fear, each one essayed,
To play.  But each in turn had found
No sweet responsiveness of sound.

Then Love the Master-Player came
With heaving breast and eyes aflame;
The Harp he took all undismayed,
Smote on its strings, still strange to song,
And brought forth music sweet and strong.

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To touch the cup with eager lips and taste, not drain it;
To woo and tempt and court a bliss – and not attain it;
To fondle and caress a joy, yet hold it lightly,
Lest it become necessity and cling too tightly;
To watch the sun set in the west without regretting;
To hail its advent in the east – the night forgetting;
To smother care in happiness and grief in laughter;
To hold the present close – not questioning hereafter;
To have enough to share – to know the joy of giving;
To thrill with all the sweets of life – is living.

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